Clash
by UnexpectedFlamingo
Summary: "Calm down, Granger. It's a handshake, not a marriage proposal." "Oh, shove it, Malfoy, I actually have standards." Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy find themselves unlikely business partners, but their history isn't the only thing making it hard to work together. It's Dramione in a Suits-esque setting. First-ever fan-faction, please be gentle! COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1: Hermione

**Chapter 1: Hermione**

Every so often, one wakes up feeling unstoppable. Untouchable. Everything around you just seems to go right. Like throwing on a winter jacket for the first time in months and finding a galleon in the pocket.

That's how I felt when my Monday began. I had a niggling feeling in my gut like something big was coming, and I was excited to get into the office to find out what my day had in store for me.

I entered my office at the Ministry of Magic just after 7:30 am. I have always preferred the peacefulness of arriving to work before everyone else; the opportunity for uninterrupted productive time. I cultivated the habit for early starts at Hogwarts – rising early and making my way to the library to study, rather than the raucousness of the Gryffindor common room. While it earned me a reputation of an 'insufferable know-it-all', it's a habit that has served me well since I graduated from Hogwarts - I am now the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

One of the perks of my job, aside from the job itself, was being rewarded with a corner office. Wide windows overlooking London span the walls, so my office was full of light. A sizeable glass-topped desk, a small conference table, and a seating area with plush leather seats. A few personal touches highlighted the space – a framed photo of Harry, Ron and myself in our sixth year ("Before it all turned to shit," as Ron so eloquently put it), a magenta orchid and a huge framed picture that Luna painted when she was in an artsy phase. One entire wall was taken up with bookshelves.

Sipping from the latte I had procured from the street cart outside the Ministry, I fired up my laptop and opened the music app, because priorities. While the Wizarding World still preferred to use magic wherever possible, they have also come to appreciate the use of Muggle technology, such as PCs, smartphones and televisions. The smartphone had been a good introduction. Now I loved me a nice owling now and then, mostly for the nostalgia, but have you ever tried to send a dirty message to a lover via owl? I tried that once. Years ago, when Ron and I were still in a relationship and Errol, the Weasley family owl, hadn't yet shuffled off his mortal coil. It took a long time to be able to look Arthur Weasley in the eye after he received the owl by mistake. Hagrid was right. Ruddy bird.

While the smooth tunes from my soul playlist filled the air, I relaxed and opened my email and calendar app. I skimmed over a few inconsequential emails – an invitation to the annual wizarding law school alumni mixer, office memos and a link to my good friend Luna Lovegood's daily wellness blog post. I smiled and flagged it to view later, when an email from the desk of the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, caught my eye. It was a calendar request for a 2:00 pm meeting. Before I could read any further, a brief knock at my door drew my attention to a towering figure at my door. It was Shacklebolt.

"Good morning, Hermione," he greeted me affably, his throaty accent adding a pleasant lilt to his words, easing himself into one of the chairs opposite my desk.

"Good morning, Kingsley. How are you?"

"Fine, fine," he answered. He pointed to my desk speaker. "Never took you for a Stevie Wonder fan?"

"Um, _yeah_," I replied, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Shacklebolt chuckled softly. "Your taste in music will always keep me guessing, Miss Granger."

I nodded toward my laptop. "Speaking of keeping one guessing, what's this 2:00 pm meeting you've scheduled for me?"

"It's what I came down here for," he began, clasping his hands in front of him. "It's about the Healers Project." I nodded in understanding. The 'Healer's Project' was a joint initiative between the Ministry of Magic and the Muggle British Government. There have been enormous advancements in Healing in the past few years, and the Ministry saw an opportunity to prove their commitment to abandoning their archaic prejudices about Muggles. Shacklebolt had approached the British Prime Minister with a proposal to extend the power of Magical Healing to the Muggle World, which the Prime Minister heartily accepted. All that was left to do was to fund it and put it into action.

"All of the consultations are complete, and both parties have developed the primary scope for the actual implementation of the project. Several secondary investors want to fund it; the meeting you have today is with the primary investor," Shacklebolt continued.

"Who is it?" I asked, taking a small sip of my latte.

"Malfoy Nott."

My latte soured on my tongue. "With all due respect, Kingsley," I said, as I struggled to swallow. "But you've got to be bloody kidding me?"

He chuckled. "I'm very serious, Hermione. They've worked hard to get where they are now, just as you have. Credit where credit is due," he remarked, not unkindly. I considered his statement.

After Voldemort's demise, the Malfoys had gone underground but re-emerged in order for Malfoy to complete his schooling. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy each served three years in prison; Draco's actions were pardoned mainly due to his age and the extreme pressure that came from having Voldemort take up residence in his home, and was sentenced to community service. To be fair, 'Voldemort moved in and ruined pretty much every fucking breakfast since' was a pretty solid defence.

After he graciously served his community service, Malfoy went to France and completed his business NEWTs and began to take the Wizarding corporate world by storm. News of his meteoric rise to the top of the corporate world was widespread, and soon the Malfoy name no longer meant mud in the Wizarding community.

Not much was ever said about Theo Nott during the war, other than he was known to be steadfastly loyal to Malfoy. It had emerged during the post-war trials that Theo's father had been incredibly abusive, and Nott Snr's imprisonment and subsequent death in Azkaban was a sort of release for the younger Nott, and he had flourished. After also completing his business NEWTs, he spent some time working as an investment banker.

After Malfoy returned from France, he and Theo decided to join their considerable wealth and business acumen and started their venture capital firm. Most of their investments were charitable and not-for-profit ventures, which earned them considerable favour in the Wizarding public eye.

While I could certainly appreciate all they had done to redeem themselves to the greater public, from a personal standpoint, I was having a hard time forgetting. I had never had an encounter with Malfoy that had been anything but awful. Theo had been less of a prat at school but nonetheless was omnipresent whenever Malfoy was around, so I tended to lump him in with the rest of them. Guilty by association.

These days, Malfoy's reputation as a businessman was preceded by his considerable arrogance. Apparently, he could only be humbled so much. So even though years had passed, I found a bitter taste left in my mouth at the thought of having to see him again.

Was this the big thing I had been anticipating this morning? What a monumental let-down.

Still, I was a grown woman and a consummate professional. Time to act like one.

I sighed. "Okay. What do you need from me?"

Shacklebolt waved his hand over the desk in front of him, and a folder of documents appeared between us. "I need you to present the project plan to Mr Malfoy and Mr Nott," Shacklebolt explained as he handed me the binder. I began to flick through the documents as he continued. "You're meeting to discuss the project in more detail. You'll also oversee the due diligence phase."

I glanced at him. "Are you sure you need me for this? I'm not a negotiator, and I don't have much experience with commercial or corporate law."

Shacklebolt inclined his head and looked at me. "You are hands down the brightest witch of your age. You're also the best lawyer the Wizarding World has seen." He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the desk.

"But this is greater than that. This project will bring the Wizarding World and the Muggle World together - something that not even history's greatest wizards and witches ever believed could happen. Especially after the rise of You-Know-Who." Shacklebolt's eyes softened. "It's not just for your abilities as a lawyer that I want you on this project. You changed history, Miss Granger. Your bravery and determination to fight for what is right are why merging our worlds is even a possibility now. You deserve to be a part of the next phase of changing history. I wouldn't trust anyone else with this project."

I was thoroughly humbled. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been right there with us during the war and had become more than just a mentor to me in recent years. He had been like a father figure to me since I obliviated my parents before the war and had been unable to restore their memories. His opinion meant the world to me.

"Well, when you put it like that," I murmured with a small grin, which earned me another hearty chuckle from Shacklebolt. He stood and leaned forward to grasp my hand, which I squeezed in return.

"I know you'll knock it out of the park. You always do." Shacklebolt spared me a wink before departing. With a sigh, I turned to the documents in the folder and absorbed myself in reading through them. Before I knew it, my calendar dinged with a reminder that it was almost time to go to the meeting. I collected my briefcase, pausing briefly to check my reflection in the mirror on my wall.

_Time to meet with Ferrets Incorporated, _I thought to myself before striding out of my office.

* * *

_**A/N: I do not own any of the characters mentioned herewith. All characters are the creative works of JK Rowling. **_

_**Any similarity to an existing published story is purely coincidental.**_


	2. Chapter 2: Draco

**Chapter 2: Draco**

I stared, slack-jawed. Surely, the idiot beside me was joking.

"You've gone quiet over there, blossom," Theo smirked at me, his blue eyes flashing with his trademark brand of mischief. "It's not like you to miss an opportunity for an arsehole comment."

I shook my head, trying hard to shift the mental image his story had left burned in my brain. "How? I mean – _surely_ \- how could you not know it was her _grandmother_?" I finally stammered out.

Theo shrugged, laughing. "We all look the same in the dark."

"Maybe, but surely we all at least feel different?" I asked with a shudder, checking my watch. Theo opened his mouth to reply with an answer I really didn't want, and I held up my hand to stop him. "You're a fucking menace, Theo. You're on track to ruin my day already, and it's not even 8:00 am."

Theo lifted his chin, doing a pathetic job of looking affronted.

"I am an utter delight," he said with a sniff.

I thanked the cart vendor for my coffee and turned toward the office building behind us. One Canada Square, in Canary Wharf was one of London's most iconic office buildings. Our venture capital firm grew enough that we occupied the 42nd floor and honestly, walking into our office never got old.

Theo and I both grew up in with fathers who were among the Dark Lord's most senior Death Eaters. When this is the start you're given, you have no choice but to be firmly entrenched on the wrong side of the war. Post-war, we both understood that the only redemption would come from being humble and paying our debts to the society our parents wanted to destroy.

I liked to think that we've made it back though. I know I have worked fucking hard to get where I am, and I'm bloody good at what I do. Still, I'm not that much of a prick that I wasn't thankful that the Wizarding World had forgiven us.

I'm also grateful for Theo. I lost other friends along the way, but Theo has always been there. From the time we could walk, he was like a brother to me. I was devastated when I found out about the abuse Theo suffered at the hands of his father. I will never forget that one night when I found Theo standing precariously on the window ledge of the tallest Nott Manor tower. Feeling like he had no other way out. Through the best and worst times of our lives, we've been there for each other. We're finally on the right side of something for once, making a good name for ourselves, and when I walk into our office and see 'Malfoy Nott' on the wall, I'm overwhelming proud that we did it together.

Not that I'd ever actually tell Theo any of that though. The man prides himself on being a flagrant pest. This latest story about going home with a girl and accidentally shagging her grandmother is sadly not the worst thing he's ever done. Any sentimentality was fucking lost on him.

Making our way out of the elevator on our floor, Theo and I each departed to our respective offices. I greeted my assistant, Sara, who was seated at her desk in the anteroom to my office. She's a Muggleborn witch and was bloody good at her job. She handed me a small stack of notes with my messages and started rattling off my schedule.

"You've got a couple of meetings today, FinTech at 10:00 am and then lunch with Westcliff at noon. After that, you have a meeting with Hermione Granger here at 2:00 pm."

I snapped my eyes to Sara. "Hermione Granger? What for?"

Sara faltered; apparently, my response was more biting than I intended. "The Healers Project, Mr Malfoy. She's presenting the project plan on behalf of Minister Shacklebolt, sir."

"Right. Okay. Thanks, Sara." I spared her a brief smile before striding into my office. I removed my suit jacket before dropping inelegantly into my desk chair and rubbed my hands over my face. _It had to be_ _Hermione bloody Granger._ Granger's rise to the top of the DMLE had been well documented in _The Daily Prophet_ over the years, as was her breakup with Weasley. Even I had to admit that her accomplishments were remarkable.

I thought back to our Hogwarts years. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel shit about the way I'd treated her. I could recall more than once feeling torn by being impressed by her skills as a witch and immediately feeling guilty and hating her for it because of my misguided blood biases. Irrespective of how I feel about her blood now, Hermione Granger was still a tremendous pain in the arse. I remembered her being so bloody haughty, especially in First year, and her need to be right all the bloody time was irritating. Watching her almost self-implode until a teacher called on her in class was annoying as shit too. Negotiating a high-pressure deal like the Healers Project with her would be like a Defence Against the Dark Arts class on steroids. _Deep joy, _I thought to myself.

Between Theo's story this morning and now a meeting with Gryffindor's Princess, the morning was officially shot. I drank the rest of my coffee and pitched the cup towards the bin near the door. It missed.

"Of course it fucking does!" I spat, not quietly. I glanced up and saw Sara eyeing me warily from her desk. She gently raised her wand and quietly shut my office door, which made me smirk.

I needed music. Music grounded me and helped me focus. I pointed my wand at the small music player in the corner of my office. _Great song, _I thought as the opening chords of _Lucky Man _by The Verve floated out of the speakers, and I closed my eyes. The thought that my aversion to anything Muggle-related almost robbed me of the chance to experience some truly great artists, and I smiled as I listened with some irony to the lyrics. It's_ just a change in me, something in my liberty._ After a few more moments, I opened my eyes, cleared my throat, and immersed myself in work.

The day flew by between work and meetings until later that afternoon when Sara's disembodied voice floated into my office.

"Mr Malfoy? Miss Granger is here to see you, shall I show her to the conference room?"

I responded with a yes before standing to straighten my tie and cuffs.

_Alright, Granger. Show us what you got._


	3. Chapter 3: Hermione

**Chapter 3: Hermione**

Staring at the monolith that was Malfoy's office building, I found myself feeling slightly intimidated. The feeling was short-lived when I remembered why I was there. _I know you'll knock it out of the park, _I heard Shacklebolt's voice in my head. I took a deep breath and entered the foyer of the building.

Stepping into the elevator, I took a moment to check my reflection in the mirrored interior. Pansy Parkinson – who had become one of my closest friends after the war – was a buyer for a high-end department store in London and her buyer's discount enables me to keep my wardrobe stocked with some stunning pieces. Today's outfit was a navy Roland Mouret midi dress, with a boatneck neckline and a structured ruffle draping from my right hip, paired with nude patent leather Louboutin pumps. I got a massive confidence boost from my corporate attire, so I never minded investing part of my generous Ministry salary on my wardrobe.

I exited the elevator on the 42nd floor and was greeted by a petite blonde, who introduced herself as Sara. She smiled and politely showed me to the conference room to wait. I remained standing and took in the stunning view out of the panoramic windows. My mind wandered, and I wondered if Malfoy would be childish enough to keep me waiting, just for the sake of being a prick. The sound of the glass door opening alerted me to his timely arrival, and I turned to greet him.

My heart jumped into my fucking throat. The man in front of me was nothing like the pointy-faced little git I remember from school. He was now pleasingly tall; his Seeker's build, wrapped in an expensive charcoal grey Tom Ford suit, had filled out lost any sense of lankiness he once possessed. Where teenaged Malfoy's face was once pointy and characterised by a permanent sneer, adult Malfoy had grown appealingly into his features. Angular cheekbones gave way to a carved jawline covered lightly by carefully sculpted stubble. His hair, still white-blond, was artfully styled and cut slightly longer on top, falling teasingly against his forehead.

What really stopped me dead in my tracks were his eyes. We'd only made eye contact once before - the first time he called me a mudblood to my face. His eyes had been so full of hatred and disgust. All I saw now as he extended his hand to shake mine was clarity in his bright, silver-grey eyes as he looked at me intensely, and I stared at him in stunned silence until his voice broke my reverie.

"Granger?" Without realising, I'd taken his proffered hand and was standing there staring, aimlessly shaking his hand. I quickly snatched my hand away and felt myself blush furiously. He noticed my blush and smirked.

"Calm down, Granger, it's a handshake. Not a marriage proposal." His tone was mocking and not entirely unlike the Malfoy I knew and hated in school. It was just enough to trigger me.

"Oh, shove it Malfoy. While I'm sure a handshake would be all it takes for most of the airheads you're used to, I have higher standards than that." I retorted. I silently reprimanded myself for allowing him to get under my skin so quickly.

"Don't flatter yourself, Granger. I also have standards, and you're far from it." Malfoy sneered as he took a seat in the leather-backed chair closest to him. I was about to hex his balls off when I heard a slurping sound at the door, and I looked over to see Theo standing in the doorway, drinking noisily from a coffee cup.

"What a lovely morning for a reunion of the finest prefects Hogwarts has ever produced," he beamed, walking into the room and leaning his tall frame against the wall. "I'd given it thirty minutes before shots were fired, but I guess time doesn't necessarily heal all wounds, does it?"

Malfoy glared at me as I took a seat in the chair opposite him and removed my file from my briefcase.

"We're fine here, Theo," he said, not taking his icy grey eyes off me. I said nothing but returned his glare. Theo looked between us for a moment longer before turning to leave.

"Say hi to Potter for me, Granger, will you?" Theo called out casually over his shoulder as he sauntered away from the conference room. I narrowed my eyes curiously at his departing figure before I turned back to a scowling Malfoy. I remembered what I was there for and took a deep breath.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" I said. Malfoy indicated with a small wave of his hand for me to begin.

* * *

For the next hour, I presented the project plan. Even though I wasn't involved in the development of the plan itself, the time I spent reading it before this meeting allowed me to deliver it perfectly. Not only was I well prepared, the idea that we could integrate the two Worlds in a way that could make such a profound difference excited me, and I found myself becoming more and more invested in the success of the project as I continued to talk.

"I believe that's covered everything. Have you got any questions?" I asked at the end of my presentation.

Infuriatingly, Malfoy said nothing. He had dutifully paid attention during my presentation, turning the pages of the presentation documents occasionally but didn't offer any comments or thoughts at all. And now he sat there twirling his pen around his long fingers, and I felt those glacial eyes bore into me with a steely intensity that left me feeling exposed. I moved to collect my files and replace them into my briefcase.

"It's a very impressive venture, Granger," Malfoy responded, finally. "Will you be overseeing the project until its conclusion?"

I shook my head. "No. After the due diligence phase is complete, I'll be handing the project over. Unless something changes in the future and my services are required again."

Something indiscernible briefly passed across Malfoy's face before disappearing again. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "I want to be a part of this. Whatever the project needs, funding or otherwise, I'm all in."

I blinked, slightly thrown by the passion in his voice. "Okay, great. We will need to finalise the details with the other investors -"

Before I could continue, Malfoy cut me off with a shake of his head.

"You won't need other investors; my firm will cover everything. As I said, I'm all in. I want the project to be a success, and I won't rely on any secondary investors to make it happen. Malfoy Nott will provide one hundred per cent of the financial backing," he said with an authoritative finality that I was horrified to find incredibly alluring.

Malfoy stood abruptly and glanced down at his watch. _Audemars Piguet, _I noted.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Please let me know if you require anything." Malfoy extended his hand to me again. I nodded, confused by his sudden transition to formalities.

"Thank you for your time today, Mr Malfoy. We'll be in touch."

He gave me a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sara will show you out," he replied, holding the door of the conference open for me. As I made my way towards the elevators, I heard Malfoy call out to me.

"Granger?"

I turned to face him. His eyes glided intently over my figure, from my face to my shoes, before meeting my eyes again.

"It's good to see you again," he said, before turning and sauntering down the corridor away from me.

My breath caught in my throat, and I followed Sara towards the elevators. If I looked confused, Sara said nothing, only offering a polite smile as we waited for the elevator to arrive. Once the elevator doors closed, I released the breath I didn't realise I was holding and recalled Malfoy's last words to me.

_It was good to see me again? What in fresh hell was that about?_


	4. Chapter 4: Draco

**Chapter 4: Draco**

I returned to my office and flopped back down in my desk chair again. Loosening my tie, I squeezed my eyes shut as I recalled what I had said to Granger as she was leaving.

_It's good to see you again. _

_Where the fuck did that come from?_

I knew exactly where it came from. It came from sitting across a conference table from easily one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. Gone was the bushy, unruly birds nest she had called hair; in its place were waves, darkened to a flattering chocolate brown shade, which fell around her face perfectly. Long dark lashes framed her golden-brown eyes, and her flawless skin carried a fading golden glow of the summer just gone. And who knew that Granger had been hiding a figure like that under her robes? I'd honestly never given it a thought before now but that navy dress she wore today highlighted her curves perfectly. She was beautiful, and it had taken me by surprise.

But for as beautiful as she had become, Granger's beauty was matched equally by her brain. She indeed was the smartest witch of our time. Her enthusiasm as she detailed each aspect of the project was palpable, and I was hooked. I had gone into the meeting anticipating her smug hubris, but it was no longer there. In its place was a quiet self-assuredness with no trace of arrogance. It was intoxicating.

At the end of her presentation, I heard myself asking if she'd be involved with the project until the end. For some inexplicable reason, I was disappointed to hear that she intended to hand the project over after the due diligence phase. I found myself at the end of the meeting virtually promising Theo's firstborn to get the project across the line.

I ran my hands through my hair and glanced at my door as it opened. Theo strolled in without knocking and folded his tall frame into the seat opposite my desk.

"Come in, Theo. Have a seat," I said sarcastically.

"It doesn't do to be a miserable twat all the time, Lord Malfoy. It will only age you." Theo leaned back and smirked at me, tilting his head. "So, how did it go?"

I shrugged noncommittally. "Fine. The project plan sounds good, looks like a solid investment."

Theo waved his hand, dismissively. "I don't really care about the details."

"You should. We're investing."

"It's your job to care. It is my job to be the pretty one."

If this were true, I'd have never gone into business with him. But the truth was, Theo Nott was a good businessman too. Whether it's Wizarding World or Muggle World, once you start talking about anything bio-medical fucking what-not with him - watch his eyes glaze with excitement. He's got a keen eye for investments, and he's good at what he does too.

"How was Gryffindor's Princess? Still irrepressibly swotty?" Theo asked.

"She was fine. We only talked about the project," I replied with another shrug. Theo's eyes gleamed, and I groaned. "Don't you bloody dare, Theo."

He held up his hands. "I didn't say a word," he protested, feigning innocence. I know the bastard better than that. Theo's like a dog with a bone if he thinks there's meat on it.

"It appears that the delectable Miss Granger has you a bit tight in the jocks, hasn't she?"

"Oh, sod off, Theo. She has not."

"That's true. I've seen your Little Lord Malfoy. I couldn't possibly imagine you would feel tight in anything."

"It worked bloody well on the bird I was with last week. By the way, your Aunt says hi."

We continued to trade barbs for a while, my inner turmoil over Hermione Granger forgotten for the time being.

* * *

The rest of my day passed inconsequentially, and at a quarter to six, I made my way downstairs to our office building's basement gym. I was able to focus on the rest of the day's work, but in quiet moments, I found my attention drifting to the memory of Granger's eyes. I'd never taken any notice of her eyes when we were at school, and I wondered if they had always been so _alive_. As I emerged from the changerooms and headed towards the treadmill, I recalled the way they glittered as she presented the project plan.

I shook my head to free the image from my brain and stepped onto the treadmill. I cued up my gym playlist and began running, Kings of Leon echoed through my headphones. Running was an outlet for me. Whenever I was stressed or needed some mental clarity, I come down to the gym, or I make my way outdoors and run until my mental fog has dissipated.

But today, I just couldn't shake the image of Granger's eyes. I gradually increased the speed on the treadmill until I was sprinting in an attempt to clear my mind. I lost track of the minutes that passed and kept running until my lungs were bursting, and my legs were on fire before I finally conceded, and I slowed the treadmill to a stop.

Back in the changerooms, I stepped into the shower. I closed my eyes and turned my face against the shower stream, trying to relax and ease the tension in my shoulders. But Granger's eyes appeared at the forefront of my mind again. This time, I let my mind wander. I pictured the rest of her face, the way her long, dark lashes fanned softly against her cheekbones as she looked down at her documents. Her hair had fallen forward, and she had smoothed it back behind her shoulder, revealing a tantalising hint of her tanned clavicle. As I licked water droplets from my lips, I wondered what it would be like to tangle my hands in her hair and run my tongue across her exposed skin.

I jerked myself free from my thoughts, horrified at the direction they were taking and the effect they were having. I turned the water ice cold and waited for my arousal to go down before stepping out and drying off roughly.

_You have to work with this woman again,_ I reminded myself, steeling my resolve. I refused to allow myself to act unprofessionally and jeopardise the success of this project. It was too important to me. A project like this would finally shake off those last remaining stigmas around my family's name.

_That's it,_ I thought to myself, determined to stop my wayward thoughts. I have worked too hard and for too long to allow Granger to derail everything.

That was the plan anyway.


	5. Chapter 5: Hermione

**Chapter 5: Hermione**

The rest of my work week passed by uneventfully, apart from an unexpected visit from an old friend on Thursday evening.

I was busy typing up notes on my laptop when a sharp knock at my door diverted me. I looked up and saw Harry at my door, smiling in his usual cheeky way. I greeted him with a smile and wrapped him warmly in a hug. It had been a while since I'd seen him; his recent promotion to Head Auror was taking up a lot of his time.

I took a small step back and held him at arm's length, assessing the face that had become so familiar to me over the years. His messy black hair was cropped shorter, exposing his markedly faded scar. He already carried fine lines around his eyes – evidence of the stress and torment he'd endured through his younger years and the war. His eyes were still undeniably Harry though; a bright, piercing green beneath his trademark round glasses. He was still shorter than me, even without my heels on, and his Auror training had added muscle and definition to his frame. But his smile was what I have always loved most about him. It cast a delightfully youthful light to his face and reminded me that he was still The-Boy-Who-Lived, my best friend since we were innocent First-years.

I smiled at him again and led him to the seating area in my office. "I haven't seen you in ages, what have you been up to?" I asked, offering him a drink from the tray on the coffee table.

"Drowning under mountains of paperwork," he said with a small chuckle, accepting the glass. "I thought heading the Auror Department would be amazing, and it is, but some days it feels like all I do is a fuckload of paperwork."

I gestured to the shelf beneath the window behind my desk, covered with neatly stacked files of open matters. "I get it," I giggled.

"Who'd have thought? 'The Chosen One' ascends to the highest professional ranks of Head Paper Pusher," Harry took a sip of his drink, his tone almost cynical. I rolled my eyes at him.

"I thought the benefits of dropping that name at restaurants and Quidditch games would have worn off by now? Or does it still work to get you laid?"

"Yeah, it's not that last part," he replied, his eyes cast down toward the floor. Harry and Ginny's relationship had ended about four years ago. I am close to them both (I have a regular brunch date with Ginny, and the other girls, each month) but neither of them had ever shared what had occurred for the two of them to break up, other than that it wasn't anything tragic and that they were both okay with it. They had maintained a strong friendship ever since.

Talking about Harry's love life always made him incredibly shy. So I liked to bring it up as often as I could.

"Bit of a dry spell, Potter?" I teased.

"We are not having this conversation, Hermione," he groaned good-naturedly. "I just dropped by to catch up. A choice I'm regretting already."

The conversation soon moved on to other topics. We talked about a few of the cases Harry was working on, and I told him about my meeting with Malfoy.

"Oh yeah? How was the pointy prick?" he asked, sneering derisively.

"Not so pointy anymore but still a prick." I fought a shiver as I recalled the sharp lines of Malfoy's jaw and his perfectly shaped lips. _Definitely not pointy anymore. The man is a specimen. _My brow creased when I remembered Theo's brief presence at the meeting. "By the way, Theo Nott wanted me to say hi to you."

"Did he?" Harry replied in an uncharacteristically high-pitched squeak. _Smooth._

"Harry?" I asked.

"What?"

"Why did Theo Nott want me to say hi to you?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know," he said, suspiciously not meeting my eye.

"Harry," I repeated, firmer this time.

"I don't know," he insisted. He knew more than he was letting on, but I decided to let it go.

It was late when Harry stood up to leave. I quickly collected my things, and we walked together through the empty corridors to the Floo points.

Before he stepped into the Floo, Harry pulled me in for a hug. "Thanks for the chat. I've missed it," he murmured into my shoulder. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Harry. Dinner soon?"

"Yeah, excellent," he beamed. "I'll Floo you, yeah?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, Harry."

"'Night, Hermione," he replied, kissing my cheek and stepping into the Floo.

* * *

Saturday morning arrived, and I was seated at a table outside our favourite café, enjoying mimosas with my three best girlfriends. Pansy sat to my left. She'd brought a garment bag containing two stunning new workwear pieces that I could not wait to wear. Luna was to my right, taking photos of her brunch. Ginny sat opposite me, but she was distracted by the results of the previous night's Quidditch game. Ginny had a promising career with the Holyhead Harpies, but a severe injury forced her into early retirement. She transitioned into Quidditch player management, and now was the leading Quidditch agent in the world. Her thick dark red hair was pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head, her beautiful brown eyes partially obscured by her black-rimmed glasses.

"How's the Healers Project going?" Luna asked, her Irish accent always so pleasant to hear.

"It's going great actually," I replied enthusiastically. "The more I read about it, the more excited I am to be a part of it."

"Literally no one is surprised that the more you read, the more excited you got," Pansy said, her black manicured fingers curling elegantly around the stem of her glass.

I had seen Pansy a few times shortly after the war, volunteering at S.P.E.W. and other charity events. I had been sceptical of her intentions at first, but like so many children of the Sacred Twenty Eight families, she was genuinely trying to make amends. We eventually started chatting and found that we had a lot more in common than we first thought. Fast forward a few years, and Pansy was the first one I turned to when I needed a bit of tough love or straight-talking advice. Infallibly poised and inherently self-possessed, I often envied how effortlessly put-together Pansy always appeared to be.

"I know you're not surprised. It's just so thrilling to see how far the Wizarding World has come from where we once were. No-one could've predicted the astronomical progress we've made so far, even with the fall You-Know-Who and his band of merry fuckwits," I gushed, leaning forward enthusiastically.

"Oh, none taken," Pansy bristled. Ginny instinctively reached out to comfortingly squeeze Pansy's hand without looking up from her phone. For all of her unnerving composure, Pansy remained sensitive to the occasional post-war backlash that the families of Voldemort sympathisers still encountered. I wondered for a moment if that was what fuelled Malfoy's determination to succeed in the business world - a desire to be seen as something other than a failed Death Eater.

Luna piped up again. "One of my reporters heard that Malfoy is investing in the project, is that true?"

"His V.C. firm is our primary investor, but that's off-the-record, Quibbler," I responded, taking a sip of my mimosa.

Luna had taken over the position of editor-in-chief of _The Quibbler_ from her father a few years prior. Once a publication dismissed as being nonsensical and irrelevant, under Luna's leadership it was heralded for being socially conscious and insightful. Luna's keen intuition and talent for journalism have earned her many awards, and she was well-praised among Britain's journalism elite. In addition to _The Quibbler, _Luna ran a popular wellness blog, garnering a few thousand followers. Disquietingly perceptive, Luna was always the first to recognise when one of us has something on our minds. Which, given what was on my mind right now, was bloody inconvenient.

"Have you met with him?" she asked. Ginny's eyes glanced up at me, as did Pansy's. I felt my face flush slightly.

"Yeah, I met with him on Monday," I answered.

"Did he look ghastly?" Pansy asked, a sly smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. There had been an arrangement between Pansy's and Malfoy's parents that the two would be married. Fortunately for Malfoy and Pansy, Voldemort's fall and the subsequent dissolution of most of the old pureblood traditions meant that their arranged marriage was off the table. Pansy had told us that she was relieved that she didn't have to go through with it. As good as the Malfoy name was, she simply couldn't abide not being the pretty one in the relationship.

Her words, not mine.

"You are not blind, nor are you a nun, Granger. Answer the bloody question," Pansy said.

I sighed as I thought back to my reaction to seeing him when he walked into the conference room; the memory sending a traitorous rush of blood into a delicious ache in my belly.

"He looks highly fuckable," I answered, far more truthfully than I had intended. I stared into my glass, wondering if it hadn't been spiked with Veritaserum while I wasn't looking. Ginny and Luna burst into laughter; even the glacially cool Pansy was chuckling into her glass while I tipped the rest of my mimosa down my throat.

"That was so not the response any of us were expecting from you," Ginny laughed, pressing a finger to her lower lashes to wipe away a tear.

"He did look bloody good. It's a shame he's still such an epic prick."

"What did he say to you?" Luna asked, her laughter subsiding.

"Nothing that I wasn't already expecting. I mean, I know Malfoy is supposed to be a 'changed man'," I replied, emphasising the words with air quotes. "And I truly wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the first words out of his mouth to me were something so typically Malfoy, it doesn't appear that he's changed at all." I glanced down at the table, frowning. "He even demanded that his firm fund one hundred per cent of the project just to ensure its success. It's hard to know whether he's being genuine or not."

Luna nodded in understanding.

"He did say something else as I was leaving..." I broke off, suddenly feeling foolish.

Pansy pointed her fork at me. "Spill it, Granger."

I glanced at Ginny and Luna, who looked at me expectantly.

"He said it was good to see me again," I said reluctantly. The girls exchanged a three-way glance.

"Is that it?" Pansy said cynically.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too anxious about that, Mione," Luna replied. "Aquavirius Maggots can make a man say funny things."

"I agree. I think." Ginny glanced at Luna, confused.

"He was checking me out when he said it, Luna," I replied. Luna silently raised an eyebrow.

"On a scale of one to full eye-fuck, what are we talking?" Pansy asked, pointing her fork at me again.

"He could probably tell what colour my knickers were," I answered, reaching over and put my hand over hers to lower the fork.

"Well, he could do that with legilimens if he wanted to. Probably already has."

"Not fucking helpful, Pans!" I cried.

"Oh, for the ever-loving sake of fuck, you have _got_ to calm down. It is not a big deal," Pansy replied. "You're both grown adults, you're both single, and God knows you could probably do with getting laid. My guess is that it's been a while."

I scoffed, mildly offended even though she was devastatingly correct.

"But it's Malfoy!" I whined.

"And?" Pansy challenged. "Imagine how dull your life would be had you not given me a second chance. You couldn't live without me now."

A small chuckled escaped me, and I realised she was right.

"Just don't go full Hermione and overthink it to the point that you allow it to get in the way of the project," said Ginny.

"Besides, what's wrong with another friend in the world?" Luna smiled, ever the optimist.

"Especially one you can bang," Pansy added, reducing them all to giggles once again.


	6. Chapter 6: Draco

**Chapter 6: Draco**

In the days that proceeded the meeting with Granger, I'd thought of her often. But eventually, I reasoned that I was getting all cock-eyed over a woman that I detested at school, and my head began to overrule my dick again. Quite frankly, the first five minutes of our meeting had proven that old habits die hard, and we were instantly slinging off at each other. Nothing had changed between us, even after all these years. After a few weeks of a hectic schedule, I was relieved to find that she hadn't crossed my mind much.

So I was a little embarrassed to find my stomach leaping when Sara told me one Wednesday morning that I had a meeting scheduled with Granger that evening at the Ministry. Our offer to fund the project in its entirety had been accepted, and the due diligence phase was commencing. I nodded my thanks and retreated to my office, closing the door behind me and removing my navy suit jacket.

Despite my earlier resolve to not let Granger affect me, I found myself staring at the ceiling with my hands resting on top of my head, the memory of her face flooding into my mind.

"Get it together, Malfoy, for fuck sake!" I said to myself out loud. Unsurprisingly, it didn't help. I uncuffed my shirtsleeves and rolled them up to my elbows, burying myself in work. But I couldn't shake my bad mood. The thought of seeing Granger had me inexplicably agitated, and I was surly and snappish all day. Even Theo had remarked several times on my churlishness. ("It's a testament to my huge personal growth and raw skills that I can piss you off this much with little effort." "It's not you, Theo." "Then they must teach me!")

At a quarter to 6, I Floo'd myself into the Ministry. I hadn't been there in some time, but I noticed that the crude sculpture of Muggles being crushed was no longer there. Only a handful of people lingered at the Ministry after hours, and I was greeted by a nervous young wizard who guided me to a large conference room in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I took a seat at the head of the table, a move of sheer arrogance that I don't bother to hide these days. I sat in silence and waited for Granger to arrive. _She's late._

The sound of heels tapping briskly towards the door disrupted the relative quiet of my surroundings. I focused my eyes on the door as Granger swept in, slightly out of breath and carrying a file.

"I'm so sorry that I'm late." She breathlessly flung the file carelessly onto the table. "Today has just been one of those days, you know? I got caught up with a crisis in the Department of Mysteries, and then I got Floo'd by -" Granger broke off suddenly when she realised that she was rambling. She straightened and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Mr Malfoy, I understand your time is valuable."

I abhorred having my time wasted, and a scathing response sat impatiently on the tip of my tongue. But seeing the normally unflappable Hermione Granger in a fluster gave me pause. I had only seen her ruffled once before, in a Potions class when Potter had bested her by using the Half-Blood Prince's Potions book. We know how that fucking ended up later.

Apparently not interested in my response, Granger took a seat in the nearest chair to my left. Her eyes flicked to me as she opened the file and handed a document to me.

"Here are the terms that I've drafted up. You're welcome to have your lawyer look over them, but we will need them signed off on within a few days, just to keep the ball rolling." Granger paused to tuck a curl behind her ear, and I noticed for the first time that she had her hair pinned up, which revealed her long slender neck. I wondered idly how it would feel to press my teeth against her neck. My cock twitched, and I shifted, clearing my throat loudly. The shift caused my arm to brush against hers, and she jumped slightly at the contact. For a moment, her eyes met mine, and neither of us could look away. Granger's gaze briefly flickered down to my mouth before she collected herself, frowning.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I seem to have lost my train of thought," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Shall we continue?"

At that moment, I would have rather have Theo punch me in the balls, but I nodded anyway and after a few awkward minutes, we slipped into a comfortable discussion about the project.

* * *

An hour later, our meeting was over. Granger's undeniable passion for the project was contagious, and even though the purpose of the meeting had not been to develop any plans for the project, Granger had filled several pages with her messy handwriting as we brainstormed.

I picked up a sheet of her notes and smirked.

"You know, there isn't a spell powerful enough in the history of magic to charm your handwriting into something legible, Granger." She moved to snatch it from my hands, but I was too quick. "Seriously, how did you pass anything at school that required handwriting?"

This time when she reached for the notes, I let her take them, amused by the pink tinge to her cheeks.

"It certainly wasn't because I bought my way in," she retorted, the venom running smoothly off her tongue. Any comment about the misuse of my parents' wealth would generally piss me off, but this time I secretly relished it. Lately, any woman I tried to have a conversation with was usually too distracted by the diamonds in my cufflinks to have any real, meaningful interaction. The fact that Granger still openly resented me was refreshing.

I spared Granger a grin, stretching my arms over my head while she stood to collect the documents spread over the table in front of us. As I pushed my shirtsleeves up to my elbows, I noticed her eyes flick to my forearms.

"I didn't know you had tattoos, Malfoy," she said. I raised an eyebrow at her, and her cheeks reddened. "Well, I knew you had at least one, I suppose."

I surreptitiously stole a glance at her left forearm as she collected the documents, the sleeves of her charcoal grey silk shirt rolled J. Crew-style neatly above her elbows. I caught a glimpse of a silvery scar, and I looked away, the guilt raw like a punch to the gut.

I brought my arms out in front of me to show her the various images inked into my skin. "This was the first one I got." I pointed to a large dragon wrapped around my forearm and ending just above my wrist, blending with the Dark Mark. It was Granger's turn to quirk an eyebrow at me.

"Of course, your first choice for a tattoo was a dragon," she teased, a smile hinting at the corners of her mouth. I smirked at her before holding out my right arm to show her the forest scene.

"This one is the Forbidden Forest, and the mountains surrounding Hogwarts." I turned my arm over to show her how the forest moved into a mountain scene. She leaned closer and peered at it intently, studying the details. Her subtle move toward me pushed her soft scent in my direction, a hint of roses and rain capturing my attention, and I became keenly aware of how close she was to me.

She seemed to notice at the same and turned her face to look at me. This time, when her eyes flicked to my mouth, I didn't hesitate. Without warning, I grabbed her face and pressed my lips to hers. A small surprised noise escaped from Granger's throat, but she made no move to pull away. Instead, I felt her hands snake up my chest to grasp the front of my shirt as I deepened the kiss, my tongue teasing at her bottom lip until she parted her mouth to let me inside. Her soft, minty tongue pressed forward, searching gently, and our kiss gained urgency. My fingers found their way into her hair, her dark waves tumbling from the clip to fall around my hands. She responded by pulling me even closer; the corner of the table dug painfully into my side, but at that moment, I couldn't have cared less.

Seconds or years passed before Granger broke the kiss, gasping. She stared with a fierce intensity into my eyes; both of us panting softly. Releasing me, she stood abruptly and grabbed her things from the table. Her face was flushed, and her eyes shone.

I stood and took a tentative step around the table towards her. "Granger -"

She wordlessly spun on her heel and sprinted out of the room, leaving me alone with the taste of her still on my lips.


	7. Chapter 7: Hermione

**Chapter 7: Hermione**

There were twelve downlights in the living room ceiling of my apartment, and not one of them seemed interested in helping to calm me down. Neither did my third glass of gin.

I kissed Malfoy. Or, he kissed me rather. Or did I kiss him?

Not that it fucking mattered. There was lip-to-lip contact, and it was hot, and it was wrong, and I was panicking.

I gave up on waiting for the inanimate objects in my living room to help and stalked my way into my bathroom. I turned on my shower and flicked my wand toward my small speaker. I needed music. Music grounded me and helped me focus. I quickly shed my clothes, leaving the silk shirt and black pencil skirt pooled on the floor along with my underwear, and stepped into the shower.

With Ben Westbeech singing softly about someone being taken away from his life, I sank to the floor of my shower and let the water run over my face. I genuinely didn't know what I was more confused about – the fact that Malfoy kissed me or the fact that I had wanted him to. The events of the evening raced through my head for the fortieth time since I bolted from the conference room barely an hour ago.

* * *

Being held up by the thousand other things that had demanded my attention meant that I was late for our meeting. I hated being late for anything, so I was already on edge and braced for a fight with Malfoy before I even arrived. The image of him sitting silently at the head of our conference room table, his navy suit jacket slung across the back of his seat, his mouth pressed in a firm line of irritation, and all the fight went out of me.

I began rambling like a madwoman before I stopped myself. _This is bloody Malfoy; you don't owe him a damned thing. _

I recalled the impatient flare in his eyes as he struggled not to make some sort of arsehole comment. _I fucking dare you right now, Malfoy_.

Remembering my resolve always to act the better witch, I denied him the opportunity to respond. I began by handing him the terms I had drafted for his team to review, explaining a few things along the way. I paused for a moment to tuck a loose curl behind my ear. I hadn't started the day with my hair up, but in the madness that was my afternoon, I haphazardly pinned it up using an antique clip gifted to me by Professor McGonagall as a graduation present. I treasured it dearly.

I was distracted by the sound of Malfoy clearing his throat loudly beside me, his arm brushing mine as he moved suddenly. The contact brought my eyes to his face, and I was caught by his steely grey stare again. My eyes flicked over the features of his face before resting momentarily on his mouth. I had never looked carefully at the shape of his mouth before but close up, and I could see the perfect symmetry of it. The sharp Cupid's Bow and a full bottom lip, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to lean forward and find out how sweet he tasted.

I banished the thought from my mind and I worked to regain my composure.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I seem to have lost my train of thought. Shall we continue?"

Later on, as I collected the various documents strewn on the table before us, Malfoy rolled up his shirtsleeves and revealed the black ink covering his forearms. The dragon had been an obvious choice, and I recalled repressing a shudder when I saw what remained visible of the Dark Mark. The mountain and forest scenery covering his other arm brought an unexpected wave of nostalgia as I recognised the rugged terrain surrounding our beloved Hogwarts. The inclusion of the Forbidden Forest I found to be a curious choice. It was where Malfoy had served been forced to serve detention with us in the First year, and years later, where his mother lied to save Harry's life.

I found myself leaning closer to him for a better look at the outline of the castle cresting the forest. I felt his breath lightly brush my cheek, and I turned to face him, realising for the first time our proximity. My traitorous eyes flickered to his lips again and felt a sudden rush as Malfoy's hands gripped my face, and his lips were on mine.

A small cry escaped my throat as my brain argued with the rest of my body. My body won out when I felt his tongue push softly against my mouth, and I gripped his shirt, the white fabric bunching under my hands. He tasted better than I could have imagined. I could count on one hand the number of guys I had kissed before, but hands down, none of them had done it like Malfoy.

His hands had crept up into my hair, loosening the waves from the clip, and I suddenly couldn't get close enough to him. I pulled him nearer, desire flooding my body like nothing I'd ever felt before. At that moment, I would have allowed him to spread me out and fuck me on the conference room table if he wanted to. With that, my irrepressible brain had a sudden resurgence, and I released him with a gasp.

His eyes blazed with white-hot intensity, and I scrambled to collect my things. As he took a step towards me, I felt the panic begin to close in on me, and I fled the room. Sprinting to the elevators, I pressed the button repeatedly, listening intently for the sound of his footsteps behind. They never came, and I stepped into the elevator, breathing deeply as I was whisked away.

* * *

Which brought me to now. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. Peering at my reflection in the mirror, I touched a hand to my slightly swollen lips and skimmed my fingers over my chin where Malfoy's facial hair had left a hint of stubble rash. I looked entirely normal. Luna would say I looked exceptionally ordinary.

Maybe, if I didn't look any different after _I just_ _kissed Malfoy, _perhaps it never happened. I grinned at my reflection, proud of myself for arriving at such a mature conclusion.

I continued with my usual night-time routine, considering all the possible outcomes from what had transpired in the conference room. M_y _involvement with the project was only brief, and the Ministry had accepted his funding before the kiss. But I knew that the Ministry had a strict policy of office fraternisation. Would that policy apply to Malfoy and me?

That would only matter if I wanted for _whatever the hell that was _to happen again. Which I firmly, absolutely, positively did not.

Yes, Malfoy was undeniably attractive, but he was also an egotistical, arrogant arsehole. Beyond that, though, he was brilliant. Driven, and he challenged me intellectually, which was energising. Our discussions about the project had been interesting and thought-provoking.

Up until approximately 7:20 pm this evening, I'd had a perfect record of not kissing beautiful bastards with whom I shared a mutual dislike. Not the loftiest of ambitions but still something that I could no longer claim. Not only was this unblemished record now flawed, but I also couldn't bring myself to regret it.

I stared into the mirror again. _What would Shacklebolt think? _I was pretty sure this wasn't what he meant when he said, 'knock it out of the park'. If Shacklebolt found out, would he drop me from the project for unprofessional conduct? Would Malfoy wake up tomorrow morning and regret what he'd done? Would he withdraw his funding?

I could feel the panic begin to surge in my chest again, and I took a deep breath. I was getting ahead of myself. I knew what this project meant to Malfoy; he wouldn't withdraw his support. Expelling the breath forcefully, I reconciled the moment as a momentary lapse of judgement and resolved that it would never happen again.

I exited my bathroom, and I crossed the room to my bed. Sliding under the covers, the memory of Malfoy's lips appeared in my mind as soon as I closed my eyes. A teasing ache pooled low in my belly again, and I knew that sleep would not be an option while this need existed. With the sweet voice of Jhené Aiko crooning from the speaker, my hand moved below the waistband of my satin sleep shorts, and I chased the feeling between my thighs until I cried out. Sated, I slipped into a deep sleep, dreaming of silver eyes and Tom Ford suits.


	8. Chapter 8: Draco

**Chapter 8: Draco**

It was Saturday, three days after what I was referring to in my head as 'The Incident', and I was in the gym with Theo. We had already completed a weights circuit, but with Theo's disposition of an errant toddler, if he doesn't expend his energy, he makes an utter nuisance of himself. So we were in the ring, sparring.

Theo had discovered boxing as a means of coping with the abuse from his father and had gotten quite good. I trained with him occasionally, but most of the time, I preferred to watch and fire hexes at his arse and feet when he wasn't looking. But after The Incident, I needed the distraction. We bumped gloves and started sparring, but after he landed a few easy blows, he could tell my head was elsewhere.

"Galleon for your thoughts, my liege?" Theo asked after a few minutes, his hands up to protect his face. I answered by throwing a few quick left jabs, which he blocked easily, but I managed to land a swift uppercut to his ribs. He grunted with discomfort.

"Prick," he chuckled, slightly out of breath. He threw a few punches back at me, which I swerved to block. There was no fucking way I was about to tell him I kissed Granger. Not worth the weeks of shit he would give me. I blocked a few body-blows and aimed a few well-placed jabs towards Theo's face. He responded with a quick punch to my solar plexus, which knocked the air out of me, but I refused to bow out.

"You hit like a Hufflepuff," I wheezed and landed a rapid hit on his nose, which he wasn't expecting. He grunted again, louder this time, and pressed his arm to his nose.

"And you hit like a girl. Been getting lessons from Granger, have we, princess?" he said, grinning.

I faltered at the mention of her name, which Theo took full advantage of by landing his powerful right-hook squarely on my jaw.

"Fuck!" I spat from where I sprawled on the floor. Theo stood above me, grinning like the utter twat he is, and wiped his dark hair from his forehead. I pulled my glove off and rubbed my jaw. "Fuck, that's gonna hurt tomorrow!"

Theo laughed and extended his hand to me.

"Up you get, pumpkin," he said, hauling me to my feet. He eyed me carefully before turning to jump out of the ring. "Come on. As much as it thrills me to beat the ever-loving shit out of you, boxing is just not fun when your opponent has sand in his vagina. You're buying the first round."

* * *

About an hour later, we were in Diagon Alley, seated in an Irish bar owned by Seamus Finnegan. I took a sip of firewhiskey and set the glass down, tilting my head from side to side to ease the tension out of my neck. The song in the background was one of my favourites from U2; though I was having a hard time agreeing with Bono that it was a _Beautiful Day._

Theo sat opposite me, his eyes flicking keenly around the room as he took in our surroundings. Not finding anyone of any interest to annoy the shit out of, Theo took his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through the day's Muggle business news. While he was distracted, I picked up the menu in front of me. The words blurred before me as my thoughts drifted to Granger. Again. I absentmindedly rubbed my index finger across my bottom lip. I couldn't decide whether the look in her eyes after the kiss was lust or confusion. Was she happy about the kiss? Her frantic escape from the conference room would indicate a solid no, but the way her hands clung to my shirt told me that she very much enjoyed the kiss and would be keen for potentially more.

_Fucking reach much, Draco?_

My mind came back to reality when Theo exaggeratedly cleared his throat beside me, a smirk on his face.

"Shall we discuss the wrackspurt that has crawled up your arse to die, or would you prefer to sit there like a sack of shit with feelings and an expensive haircut?" he asked, delicately.

"Wrackspurt? Really?" I asked, eyeing him warily. "Didn't pick you for a _Quibbler_ reader, Theo. Too many words and not enough pop-up pictures for you, I'd have thought."

"It is just like you to mock me for my predilection for keeping well informed, you patrician nightmare," Theo replied. "_The Quibbler _is covering the benefit next week, and they want an interview with the brains behind the preeminent juggernaut that is Malfoy Nott. Which one of me do you think they'll want to speak to?"

The benefit was the annual charity ball sponsored by our firm. Each year, we chose a different organization to donate all proceeds to; this year, it was St. Mungo's Hospital. I hadn't given it much thought until now.

"So?" Theo prompted, sipping his firewhiskey. "You've been surlier than usual for days now. Now, as your business partner, I provide the requisite charm to counter your stoicism; an arrangement that works beautifully. But quite frankly, the extra mile I have had to go to lately is unsustainable." He leaned across the table and patted my cheek, not gently. "This is a safe space, Draco."

I didn't want to tell him about Granger, but Theo could already tell there was something amiss, so there was little point trying to deny it. So I told him about The Incident, leaving out the extraneous details, such as Granger's swift departure, and the fact that she had occupied my mind every day since. I paused, waiting for Theo's reaction.

He closed his eyes. He covered his mouth with his hand, his brows creased, and when he started shaking, I wondered for a brief moment whether I should be concerned before I realized that he was laughing his arse off. He leaned his head back, laughing loud enough that the people at the tables around us turned and stared at him.

"But she _loathes_ you!" he chortled, tears weeping from the corner of his eye. I threw a hand up in the air. "Oh, that's fucking hilarious! All the willing women in the world, but you go and do your nut over the one woman who hates you! Oh, that's so good!" he cried, wiping the tear from his eye.

"So glad I told you," I groaned, rubbing my hand over my face. Theo continued hooting for a bit before he finally calmed down. He picked up his glass again and tipped it toward me.

"All hilarity aside, what exactly are you worried about? This little dalliance isn't going to get kicked off the project, is it?" he asked simply, giving me a whole new reason to worry. I picked my glass up and drained half the contents before setting it down to speak again.

"I don't know. I hadn't thought about that," I answered truthfully. I'd been so focused on Granger's reaction to consider what the implications might be. "I hope not."

Theo quirked an eyebrow, sensing an opportunity to stir the pot. "You hope not because you like the opportunity to do it again?"

"Theo, I beg you, please shut up."

"But I'm invested now. Your happiness is my happiness. Obviously, beneath your bravado and impeccable tailoring is a boy who had no choice, just crying out to be loved."

"You want to talk about feelings, do you, Theo?" I snapped, harsher than I intended. Theo's eyes glinted, and his face cracked into a gleeful grin, which never meant anything good. Theo was never happier than when he had pushed everyone in his immediate vicinity to the limits of their patience with him.

"Do you need a tampon, Draco?"

I scowled, not even registering the door to the bar opening somewhere behind me. The sound immediate caught the attention of the errant pest beside me, and he glanced over to the door. Theo's smile spread ever further across his face like a cat who got the canary.

"Oh, look!" he said chipperly, gesturing behind me with a nod. "Something Granger this way comes."

My stomach flipped, and I dared a glimpse over my shoulder. Granger was indeed walking towards us, but she wasn't alone; she was with Potter. She looked up before reaching our table and noticed my presence, and I didn't miss the way her breath caught in her throat. She halted abruptly in her tracks, causing The-Boy-Who-Got-Lucky to bump into her slightly. He peered at her inquisitively before following her line of sight to our table, recognition dawning on his face.

I turned back to face Theo but not before I saw Granger square her shoulders and begin walking towards us again. To my surprise, she paused at our table.

"Good evening, Theo. Malfoy. How are you both?" she asked politely, the forced smile on her lips not reaching her eyes.

"Granger, how are you?" I greeted her with a curt nod of my head.

Theo was practically incandescent. He grinned at her and, not for the first time, I dreaded to hear what was about to come out of his mouth.

"Lovely to see you again, Miss Granger. You look nice," he said. Potter stepped instinctively to her right and considered Theo and me carefully before seemingly recalling his manners.

"Malfoy, Nott. It's been a while," he said, holding out his hand to each of us.

"Potter," I said brusquely in response, shaking his hand. Theo grasped Potter's hand and looked at him intently. I considered Theo's odd reaction before disregarding it.

I didn't hate Potter. And truthfully, I didn't hate him at school either. I was a spoiled child and was used to having everything my way, and I just couldn't understand why he didn't want to be my friend. In my head, I had offered my friendship, and he knocked it back without giving it a chance. I resented him for it.

I also resented him for how he always came out on top. Fucking _everyone _knew that Granger was the brains of the Golden Trio, but he was the one on the pedestal. Potter only had to breathe right, and Dumbledore was up and about with '1,000 points to Gryffindor!' Slytherins are achievement-oriented, and we prided ourselves on self-preservation and our cunning. In the years that have passed, I've learned to appreciate bravery as well as ambition.

I still think he's a prick though. Old habits and all that.

Theo broke the awkward silence in the only way Theo knew how – like a rock through a plate glass window.

"Malfoy was just talking about you, Granger."

"I really fucking wasn't," I said, my face screwed up in a grimace. I opened my eyes and glanced warily up at Granger. A flush spread across her cheeks, and I heard her sharp intake of breath. She looked furious.

"Yes, you were, don't be coy. We were just talking about the benefit for St. Mungo's next week, and he was pondering out aloud whether you would be attending?"

"We really fucking weren't," I said. Granger's expression softened slightly, but she still looked like she wanted to Petrify me. Theo chuckled from across the table.

"He's right, we really fucking weren't but since we've put it out there, will you be attending the benefit next week, Miss Granger?"

Her chin lifted slightly as she responded.

"I am actually. Minister Shacklebolt considers that it would be the perfect opportunity to announce the Healing Project to the public, and has asked me to attend," she said, almost defiantly. Theo slapped the table lightly.

"Oh, capital, you'll both be present on such a momentous night for the Healing Project!"

I wanted to kick Theo's arse, but it would feel a bit like kicking a puppy. Theo's attention turned back to Potter, and something clouded his eyes for a split second before it passed.

"What about you, Potter. Will you also be attending?" Theo asked casually, but I detected an undercurrent in his voice of something that I couldn't put my finger on.

"Uh, yeah, I am. Shacklebolt asked me to attend," Potter replied, his own voice belying something intangible. Theo looked pleased.

I could feel that Granger's eyes on me during the whole exchange, and when I looked up to meet them, she flicked her eyes towards Theo and quirked an eyebrow at me questioningly. I nodded my head at her unspoken question. I wondered name Pantone would come up with for the colour her face turned. I already felt like a bit of a prick for telling Theo, and her fury indicated that she hadn't told anyone about the kiss, and I found myself feeling worse that she was carrying the burden of our secret alone. _God, you're a pussy, Malfoy_.

Granger turned and placed her hand gently on Potter's shoulder.

"We should go," she said softly. "Enjoy your evening gentlemen."

"Same to you, Granger. Potter," I said, offering a tight smile. Theo smiled another big shit-eating grin at the pair as they moved away from our table toward the back of the bar.

"See you next week at the ball!" Theo called to their departing backs, and they both glanced back to see Theo waving. I reached over and smacked his hand down. Then I punched his arm for good measure.

"Will you _desist?"_ Theo squawked, flinching on impact. "Honestly, have you not a modicum of restraint?"

"Must you be such hard work all the bloody time, Theo?"

"You're asking me to be less delightful? What am I to you, a tapestry?" Theo drained what was left in his glass and slid the empty glass across the table to me.

"I got the last round!" I exclaimed.

"And you know I would get this one, except I don't want to," Theo replied breezily. I snuck a glance to the rear of the bar where I could see the back of Granger's head, obscuring Potter's face from my view. Theo followed my gaze and smacked his hand down on the table loudly, shaking me from my trance.

"Malfoy!" he barked, and I scowled at him. "Are you going to have a bloody drink, or are you going to stare at the back of her head like a lost puppy?"

I sighed loudly. "Drink," I said simply. Theo nodded once.

"That is correct for five points. Now kindly wipe off your steamy vagina and get the drinks."

I shook my head at him as I stood. "You're a fucking wordsmith, Theo."


	9. Chapter 9: Hermione

**Chapter 9: Hermione**

I had been looking forward to the benefit for weeks. Luna and Pansy were also attending; Ginny was in the US on Quidditch business. The three of us had made plans to meet up at my apartment for pre-game champagne before heading to the event together.

But after the kiss with Malfoy and finding out that he too would be attending the event – hell, his firm sponsored the benefit, I should've realised that he would be going – I couldn't help but feel a hint of dread seeping in, undermining my excitement. I was a chronic over-thinker at the best of times. After the kiss, the thought of seeing Malfoy, in a situation where we were expected to play nice, had me all in my feelings.

"– she's not even bloody listening, are you? Earth to Granger!" I was startled by Pansy shouting in my direction. We had already beauty charmed our hair and makeup, and were standing in my kitchen, a glass of Veuve Clicquot each in hand.

"What?" I cried, frowning at her.

Pansy huffed impatiently. "I said, are you making a speech for the Project tonight as well, or is it all Shacklebolt?" she asked, calmer this time.

My tummy lurched a little, and I drained the small amount left in my flute.

"Yeah, I have to make a brief speech, which means -," I held my now-empty glass towards Luna. "- I need a refill."

"Oh, you'll be fine. There won't be any Nargles in the room to distract you," Luna said softly, dutifully refilling my glass almost to the brim. _That's why she's my people._

"I've known you for years now, and I still have no clue what a Nargle is," Pansy replied. Luna's blue eyes glittered. They were always dreamy, but after a glass of champagne, they were almost glazed over.

"They're magical creatures. They live -," Luna started but was interrupted by Pansy shrieking at the oven clock.

"Merlin's sagging nutsack, look at the time!" she screeched in a gross departure from her usual composure. "Get dressed, we're going to be late!"

* * *

Not twenty minutes later, the three of us were dressed and had apparated to the benefit, held in a stunning mansion in Cheshire. We made our way towards the red carpet and media wall.

Pansy, ever the show pony, was the first in front of the cameras. She looked stunning in her black structured Elie Saab gown, a flicker of green from her emerald drop earrings glinting in the camera flashes. _Always the Slytherin. _I could see her mentally repeating the mantra that she used for photo ops: _three-quarter turn to the camera, shoulders back, head over the fence and say pruuuuune. _

Luna was ethereal in her pale pink Marchesa gown. A gold headband adorned her head, her blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders and down her back in a mass of curls. Her flawless porcelain skin glowed under the hot media lights.

Despite my lingering nerves about the speech, I felt fabulous. Pansy had come through with the goods with my gown – it was a vivid red Proenza Schouler gown, strapless and fitted to my knees before flaring out to a fishtail with a train. My hair was down and my makeup simple, save for a red lip to match my gown. Due to the high profile nature of the event, I had been loaned a stunning diamond cluster necklace and matching earrings as well. Being a Ministry department head had its perks.

We made our way into the foyer of the Cheshire mansion. Light jazz music floated through the air above the chatter of the guests. Above us hung a huge banner that read, 'St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries Benefit Ball'. We each collected a champagne flute from the floating tray and looked around at the crowd.

My tummy flipped when I spotted Malfoy standing across the room with Theo, greeting guests as they entered the main hall. He hadn't seen me yet, so I permitted myself a moment to take in the sight of him. His hair was in its usual, freshly fucked disarray, and he still hadn't bothered to shave, but dang, the man wore a tux likes it was his life's calling. Malfoy was poised as he confidently greeted his guests; the evidence of his aristocratic upbringing on full display as he shook hands and made perfunctory small talk with each person he greeted.

Suddenly, he met my eyes across the room. He faltered but quickly recovered. He excused himself from his guests and began sauntering towards me. His earlier 'Lord of the Manor' poise gone as he adopted his familiar swagger, his eyes appraising me as he approached. I stepped away from Pansy and Luna.

"Well, well, well Granger," he said, quirking an eyebrow. "Nice to see you."

I shook my head slightly, puzzled by his affability.

"Malfoy. Nice to see you too, it looks like a wonderful event."

Malfoy eyed me up once again. "Who'd have thought the brightest witch of our age would scrub up so nicely? Quite the ugly duckling story."

"And there it is," I replied, scowling at the return of the arsehole I'd come to know and loathe. "How the hell you manage to convince people to give you money, even for charity, is absolutely beyond me."

He gave a low chuckle, and reached for my hand, his eyes simmering.

"I can be very persuasive, Granger," he drawled. I snatched my hand from his; my actions belying the desire that spread through me. Suddenly, a voice behind us called Malfoy's name, and we turned to see a man clutching a camera.

"Mr Malfoy, a quick photo with the lovely Miss Granger for the _Prophet_," he said, holding up his camera. I opened my mouth to object, but Malfoy moved to wrap his arm around my waist, his hand spreading low on my hip.

"Smile, Granger," he hissed through his smile. "Good publicity for the project, don't you agree?"

The heat from his hand on my hip was adding fuel to the fire already coursing through my veins. The photographer snapped a few pictures, thanking us as he moved away. Malfoy slid his hand along my lower back, his hand leaving behind a trail of warmth as he took a small step back. I had no intentions of letting him see the effect he was having on me, so I glanced around the room for inspiration. I found it in one Theo Nott, and I turned to glare at Malfoy.

"So," I began. "You told Theo about the other night."

The bastard dared to look smug. "One doesn't kiss Gryffindor's Princess and keep it to himself," Malfoy said with a wicked grin. My anger raged instantly, before remembering that we were at a public event that I was attending in an official Ministry capacity. The last thing I wanted was to cause a scene, so I plastered a fake smile on my face.

"That's exactly what you should do. How many bloody people have you told?" I seethed through gritted teeth. He chuckled again and took a sip of champagne.

"Relax, Granger, I haven't told everybody. Just Theo, and only because he practically belted it out of me."

"I envy him," I said, taking a sip.

"You had your shot in Third year, Granger," he replied tightly, and I was unsure if he was rubbing his chin unconsciously or not.

"That was the people's punch," I retorted with a grin, and he scowled.

"Yes, we get it. I was a prick -"

"Was?" I interjected sharply.

"Christ, haven't you ever made a fucking mistake Granger?"

"Yeah, in a conference room, one night last week actually," I snapped. His eyes darkened, and he leaned in close to me.

"I didn't hear you fucking complaining at the time," he said, his voice low and alluring in my ear, and I shivered. Out the corner of my eye, I spotted Shacklebolt standing with other Ministry and St. Mungo's officials, his hand raised and beckoning me over. With no small amount of relief, I turned to Malfoy.

"Seems that the universe has heard my plea to save me from this conversation," I said, gesturing with a nod towards Shacklebolt. I tipped the contents of my champagne flute into my mouth and handed my empty glass to Malfoy. "Do something with that, will you, pretty boy?"

His mouth dropped open, and I brushed past him. I felt Malfoy's eyes watching me as I walked over to Shacklebolt. I silently willed my breath to steady itself before speaking.

"Minister Shacklebolt, gentlemen," I greeted them courteously. "Enjoying your night so far?"

"Good evening, Miss Granger, lovely to see you," Shacklebolt returned my smile; the others murmuring their greetings. "Ready for your speech tonight?"

"Not even slightly," I laughed. "Opening and closing remarks at Wizengamot trials are one thing. Public speaking is a whole other level."

"You'll be just fine. Mr Malfoy and Mr Nott will start, as always. I'll provide a brief lead-in, then you'll speak. You'll then hand over to Healer Smethwyck, and that's it," Shacklebolt explained.

"Then I drink?"

Shacklebolt chuckled. "Then we all drink."

* * *

Twenty minutes later and I was standing in the ballroom alone, off to the side of the stage. I was sweating bullets. There were no less than 700 people in the room and every one of them was a bloody Nargle. I spotted Harry, Pansy and Luna standing together off to the left, and not even their usually calming presence was enough to calm my nerves. I considered crowd-surfing my way out.

"Just breathe," said a voice in my ear. I jumped as Malfoy handed me a champagne flute. "You'll do great."

I smiled anxiously. I was too nervous about the speech to be snappish.

"Thank you," I said softly. Malfoy smiled back at me.

"You're welcome. Just don't fuck it up," he murmured, brushing past me to take his place near the stage.

"Motherfucker," I growled under my breath, as Theo stepped up beside me.

"Forgive him, he's an only child," he said.

"So am I," I replied. "Malfoy's just an arse."

"It _is _a lovely arse."

"Yeah, it is," I snorted indelicately.

_Oh, dear God. _

Theo barked out a laugh. "You know, Miss Granger, we're either going to hate each other, or we're going to be best of friends," he said.

"Get me out of this speech, and I'd probably blow you," I pleaded, only half-joking.

"I am offended that you think I'm that easy, Miss Granger," Theo turned to me with mock outrage. "I am the very paradigm of chasteness."

"I've heard very different from one of your former housemates."

"Pardon the vulgarity, but Malfoy can politely go fuck himself and his horse. Granted, he may not have geriatric experience yet, but he is no saint."

"No, professor. I meant Pansy."

Theo lifted his chin indignantly. "Oh."

"I'm torn. I want you to tell me what you meant by the 'geriatric' comment because it's a distraction from the speech, but I'm afraid it will mean exactly what I think it means, and my mind can't ever unsee that," I replied. Theo opened his mouth to tell me anyway but mercifully was cut off by a magically amplified voice booming around the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming to the stage Mr Draco Malfoy and Mr Theo Nott, our principal sponsors for tonight's benefit ball."

Theo winked at me as he bounded up the stairs to join Malfoy onstage, applause filling the room.

"Thank you, everyone, and welcome to our event. It's wonderful to see so many of you have turned out to support such a worthy cause," Malfoy said, addressing the crowd. I gazed out over the crowd as Malfoy and Theo took turns speaking, and I noticed that most of the female members of the audience were held rapturous. _How sad, _I scoffed internally. Then I saw that Harry and Luna both had the same struck expressions on their faces. _I don't know what to do with that. _Pansy just looked bored and a little drunk.

I turned my attention back to the two men on stage. Theo was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. Slightly taller than Malfoy, he had a somewhat leaner build as well. He had an impish quality to him, which made him appear younger and more exuberant than Malfoy. Where Malfoy was stoic and carried himself with a no-nonsense air, Theo just _looked_ like mischief. Both were articulate and engaging when they spoke, their brief speech littered with light-hearted banter and inside jokes. Their shared fervour for bringing their projects to life was enthralling, and the audience was riveted. I could see why their company was thriving – they provided a perfect counterbalance for each other.

Theo soon stepped away from the centre of the stage, where Malfoy remained.

"I have been given the honour of introducing our next guest to the stage tonight. He approached Theo and me a while back about potentially coming on board with a new Ministry project. He couldn't tell us much, but what he was permitted to share floored us both. Not just by what the project was hoping to achieve, but that he thought to ask us to be involved.

"I won't do Theo the injustice of speaking for him. He'll bugger this up all on his own," Malfoy said, grinning over his shoulder at Theo, the audience laughing as he continued.

"I speak wholly for myself when I say that I was on the wrong side of the war. I was wrong. I hurt a lot of people; my family hurt a lot of people, and I'm sorry. The man who I will introduce very shortly has given us the tremendous gift of being on the right side of something for once, and I'm incredibly proud, humbled and outright honoured to have the opportunity. I promise you - we're going to smash it."

The crowd applauded loudly, and Malfoy smiled gratefully.

I was sure I had the same starstruck look on my face as the others did, but I was finding it hard to care. Malfoy was so confident, so arrogant and so _Slytherin_ most of the time that it was easy to forget that he also possessed the capability to be vulnerable.

And his speech wasn't just rehearsed platitudes, trolled out for the benefit of the masses. It was an impassioned thank you for being provided with an opportunity to prove that people _can_ change for the greater good. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit moved by it.

"Now without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, the Honourable Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt." Malfoy turned to shake hands with Shacklebolt, before offering a brief wave to the audience and departing the stage.

"That was a great speech, Malfoy," I whispered to him as he came to stand next to me beside the stage.

"Thanks," he whispered back. "Now just remember, there are only 700-plus people here tonight -"

"Stop it."

"- and you're only presenting a briefing on the Healers Project. You have no reason to be nervous -"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"- unless you're planning on reading from your handwritten notes. In which case, you're astronomically fucked."

"Your mother didn't hug you enough as a child, did she?" I hissed at him.

"Brightest witch of our age and all you can come up with is a 'yo mama' joke, Granger? How very low-brow," Malfoy replied.

I glared at him before I heard Shacklebolt call my name, and I made my way onto the stage. But not before purposefully leaving my handwritten notes in my clutch beside the stage.


	10. Chapter 10: Draco

**Chapter 10: Draco**

I watched Granger cross the stage to stand beside Shacklebolt, kissing him warmly on the cheek before he took a few steps to stand off to her left.

"Thank you, Minister, and thank you all for coming tonight," she began, expelling a deep breath. "I am proudly Muggle-born. I grew up in Oxfordshire as an only child. My parents, Richard and Elizabeth Granger, were dentists. For those who are not aware, a dentist tends to people's teeth. Dentists are an integral part of any healthcare system worldwide. My parents both earned their Bachelor of Dental Surgery at a college in Birmingham, where they met. My parents were simple folk; they didn't have the best of everything, nor did they want it. They loved their jobs. They truly loved being dentists, and I felt their profound happiness every day."

Granger paused and looked down at her hands for a moment before continuing.

"Several years ago, I had to let go of my parents. Not a day goes by when I don't think of them and wonder where they are right now. Whether they're still in Australia or have they travelled somewhere different. Has their love of dentistry survived obliviation, or are they doing something completely different?"

It hit me at that moment that Granger had obliviated her own parents to save them, and my old friend guilt made its wretched appearance to punch me square in the gut. It wasn't the first time I had underestimated her, and I wondered how else she would surprise me.

"Granger's got balls," Theo murmured from beside me, eloquent as ever, and I nodded my agreement.

"The healthcare system in the Muggle United Kingdom was once ranked as the best in the world and I'm honoured to say that once upon a time, my parents were a part of why it was the best," Granger said proudly, the crowd breaking into applause.

"As a witch, I've also witnessed some amazing work that Magical Healers have performed since receiving my letter to Hogwarts all those years ago. From Skele-Gro potion to repair an arm left totally devoid of bones, to a swift _episkey _to fix a broken nose."

I glanced across the room to where Potter was standing, and I smirked when he rubbed the bridge of his nose. I very much did not wipe the smirk off my face when he caught my eye across the room and scowled at me.

"I'd like to point out that both of those Healings, among others, were performed on the same person on different occasions. A more apt nickname for this person would've been The-Boy-Who-Lived-But-Only-Bloody-Just," Granger said with a grin; her joke met with laughter.

"I have experienced first-hand the wonders of Magical Healing. I was Petrified by a basilisk in my second year at Hogwarts. Thanks to the joint efforts of Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey, I was revived and suffered no further side-effects.

"I am fortunate to have seen the miracles performed by Muggle doctors and Magical Healers in my lifetime. The idea that we can bring them together, I -" Granger stopped and shook her head, a small smile crossing her lips. "It's remarkable. I wish I had a better word, and those who know me well would find it unbelievable that I can't find the right word. I did have one written down." _No wonder she couldn't remember it if she wrote it. _"But for now, I'll just say it is remarkable. This is progress and unity at its best, and it's exciting, and I'm so honoured to be a part of it. Thank you."

As the audience applauded loudly, Granger bowed her head courteously.

"I have the great pleasure of introducing our next guest speaker, the Head of St. Mungo's, Healer Smethwyck," Granger said, joining the audience in applauding politely before retreating from the spotlight. She paused at the top to hitch her dress up, her gown restrictive around her knees. Without thinking, I propelled myself forward and offered my hand. Granger tentatively took it and I guided her down carefully. Granger turned to me and slipped her hand from mine.

"Thanks," she said in a furtive whisper.

"You're welcome. Great speech," I replied quietly. Granger glanced at me, sceptically.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just as well you didn't read it, you'd have completely bollocksed it."

"There are other options besides being a prick, you know, Malfoy. You should try silence," she hissed at me.

"Being a prick _is _the other option. My default setting is knicker-dropping charm."

Her groaned was drowned out by applause as Smethwyck continued his speech, and we stood in an assumed silence until the address concluded. After the speech, the ballroom's external doors magically opened, and the guests began making their way to the garden to a magnificent white silk marquee. The tent's ceiling was enchanted to allow the night sky to show through, and rows of tiny lights cast a soft glow across the room. The band started playing, and soon couples began to migrate toward the dancefloor.

I stood off to the side, sipping firewhiskey. Theo was next to me. He was blessedly quiet for once, but his eager eyes were flicking around the room.

"Who are you looking for?" I asked.

"Potter," he answered simply.

"Why?" I asked with disdain.

"For fun."

"Fun? What kind of fun could you possibly have with Potter?"

"I'm thinking."

"Just stretch out your scrotum and use it as a trampoline for Cornish pixies instead. That could be fun," I offered helpfully.

"That time you walked in on your parents _in flagrante_ really changed you, didn't it," Theo replied, craning his neck to see over the crowd. "Found him!" he squawked, weaving his way through the crowd.

I watched Theo cross the room until he appeared next to Potter, who was standing with Pansy and Luna. And Granger. At that moment, I decided to not stand there like a spare dick, and I made my way over.

"Evening all," I said in greeting, coming to stand next to Theo.

"Ah, nice to see you've managed to crawl out of your snake hole for the evening, Draco," Pansy stepped forward and wrapped me in a warm hug.

"Hello, Dark Mistress. Set any boyfriends on fire lately?" I said, hugging her back.

"It was one time Draco, and at that age, you barely had any chest hair anyway," she replied and then fluttered her fingers in the air. "Let it go."

"I've heard of Muggles engaging in acts of mild, consensual violence as a form of foreplay before sex. But I don't think this is the same thing," Luna added airily.

"It was not!" I scoffed indignantly.

"No, he was far too vanilla for that," Pansy sniffed, Theo snickering beside me. At least Potter and Granger had the presence of mind and good manners to look uncomfortable.

"Hermione was right though, Draco," Pansy said to me, her head tilted to one side. Granger immediately looked to Pansy with alarm.

"About what?" I asked.

"Don't -" Granger was glaring warningly at Pansy.

"You do look highly fuckable," Pansy stated simply.

"Wow," I replied, stunned. My head, and everyone else's, snapped to Granger as she clapped her hands over her face.

"Oh, sweet Jesus, Pansy!" Granger shrieked from behind her hands. "You're the worst! You're the living fucking worst!"

"Well, you didn't say not ever to tell him," Pansy replied, entirely unsympathetically.

"It was implied!" Granger moved her hands from her face; her skin flushed to the same colour as her dress. "Girl code!"

Luna moved to put her arm around Granger, rubbing comforting circles into her back.

"You look fuckable too if it helps, Hermione," she said soothingly.

"How does that help?"

"Well, you're on even ground with him, which is always the best place to start a relationship."

Theo was wearing the biggest shit-eating grin beside me; the discomfort of others was his favourite pastime.

"I feel like I could make this worse, but I'm honestly not sure how!" he practically sang.

Potter was making a vocation out of staring at anything but what was going on in front of him. Pansy stood there, either oblivious to or disinterested in the atomic bomb of awkward she had just detonated. I reached over and grabbed Granger's hand.

"Come on" I started pulling her towards the dancefloor.

"No, Malfoy -" she stammered resisting.

"Come _on,_" I repeated through gritted teeth. This time, Granger relented. Pansy waved her index finger in a circle, gesturing at us.

"I started that. That was all me," I heard her say to no one in particular as we walked away.

I weaved through the crowd and led Granger to the centre of the dancefloor, away from the others. I turned to face her, and she inhaled shakily.

"I don't dance," Granger pleaded timidly. I pulled her to me and placed my arm around her waist. She was wearing heels, but she was still several inches shorter than me. If she were close enough, I'd be able to breathe in the scent of her hair.

_Creeper._

"I do," I replied as I began to move with her.

We danced in silence for a few minutes, Granger's posture stiff and unrelenting, and her gaze stayed pointedly away from mine. Even by my usual standards, it was not the time to be a prat.

"Hey," I said to her softly, and she finally tilted her head up to look at me. "You all right?"

She sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry about Pansy. God, I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be; I know what she's like," I said, trying to reassure her. "She's always had good taste in men and is nothing if not completely honest."

_So, not being a prat lasted a long time._

Granger scoffed at me. "Really, Malfoy? Your inner wanker is never far away, is it?"

I grinned and squeezed her hand as I spun her slowly.

"Pansy and Theo, they've never been any different. They're both highly intelligent individuals that operate on an entirely different frequency to everyone else. Pansy is yet to give a single fuck in her lifetime, and Theo exists just pester the living shit out of people."

Granger chuckled. "They do it well."

"Unfortunately for the rest of us. But deep down, they're good people. At times it is just way, way, fucking hit-bedrock-and-keep-going, _way_ deep down."

"I love Pansy to death, I do. She's been a great friend to me over the last few years," Granger said. "But right now, I'm not above putting Fever Fudge into the crotch of every pair of knickers she owns."

I laughed, and Granger began to visibly relaxed. On stage, the band started playing a soft jazz song that I didn't recognise, but it was easy to dance to. Granger looked up at me.

"Van Morrison. My parents loved this song," she sighed, a sadness clouding her eyes despite the smile on her lips. "They used to play it all the time. And we actually have a full moon tonight -" she gestured upwards where a full moon beamed above us. "- so it really is a marvellous night for a Moondance."

As we danced to the smooth piano and bass beat of the song – _this is a cool song_, I thought to myself - I took a moment to study her face. The crimson flush of embarrassment had subsided, and her diamond earrings were catching the lights and casting little reflections against her cheeks. Her gaze moved slowly over the faces of the guests around us as we moved easily among them. Eventually, her eyes came to rest on mine, and I was held captive.

"Christ, Granger, you're beautiful," I breathed, almost incredulously. Granger tensed against me and her breath caught in her throat for a moment before she recovered.

"But what? 'Shame you can't kiss for shit?' What's the snarky follow up going to be this time?" she said, but the retort lacked her usual bite.

"No follow up, Granger," I replied earnestly, shaking my head. "And I've thought about that kiss for days."

Her breath hitched again, and my eyes fell to where her red lips parted slightly. A spark ran straight through me to my groin when she bit her lip, and I pulled her hard against me, leaning down so only she could hear me.

"I want to taste more of you, Granger," I growled into her ear, and I heard her gasp softly. Instinctively, her mouth turned to meet mine, but I straightened, adding a little distance between us.

"Not here," I stated, as a flute trilled out over the room; signalling the end of the song. I released Granger and reached into the inner pocket of my tuxedo jacket to retrieve my phone. I unlocked it and pressed it into her hand.

"I'll give you a few minutes. If you want this, give me your address, and I'll come to you tonight. If you don't, we agree to leave it here, and I promise you that I'll leave you alone and that it'll be the end of it."

Granger's chest rose and fell, the Harry Winston cluster necklace at the base of her throat twinkling brilliantly as she worked to steady her breath, and I bent to kiss her cheek.

"Your move," I said, and I headed past her towards the main house.


	11. Chapter 11: Hermione

**Chapter 11: Hermione**

_Your move._

Malfoy's words were ringing in my head as I stood alone on the dancefloor with his phone in my hand, my feet seemingly bolted to the floor. I was bumped from behind by one of the dancing couples, and I mumbled an apology as I moved off the dancefloor and walked dazedly toward where my friends had congregated. Luna noticed my expression and reached out to me.

"Mione, are you all right? You looked worried." Luna's hands clasped my forearms as she peered intently at me.

"You remember what I said about Malfoy at our last brunch?" I asked, and she nodded.

"Sure, I do, and then Pansy mentioned it before as well."

"She really did," I remarked with a wry smile. "Well, Malfoy just offered me the chance to test the theory, so to speak."

"Oh, to see if the curtains match the drapes. I think I'm using that phrase right."

"I'm almost positive you're not. I don't know how to feel about this," I pleaded to Luna as Pansy ambled over to us, almost empty champagne glass in her hand.

"Is she drunk?" I whispered incredulously to Luna.

"Either that, or it's the Nargles."

"What are we talking about?" Pansy asked, swaying slightly where she stood.

"You should never talk again," I huffed indignantly. Pansy blew a raspberry and took a sip of her champagne. "You are going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, Parkinson, which you fully deserve. I'm taking your wand and destroying every other anti-hangover solution at your disposal."

"Nah, I have the constitution of something," Pansy slurred, gesturing dismissively in the air. "Keep talking, Granger."

"So Malfoy and I kissed last week -" I began with a sigh. Pansy gasped loudly, and Luna moved to rub her upper back calmingly. "- and a few minutes ago, he said he wants more."

"Fucking, UP TOP!" Pansy shrieked, raising her hand to high-five me. A few people looked over at the commotion, and Luna calmly placed her hand on Pansy's arm to lower it.

"What do _you_ want, Mione?" Luna asked.

"I don't know. The _smart_ thing to do would be to say no," I replied.

Luna chuckled. "If your brain could take the night off, what would you want to do?"

"GET YOU SOME!" Pansy screeched again, raising her glass toward her mouth. Luna surreptitiously transfigured the drink from Pansy's hand into a glass of water instead.

"You're dehydrated," Luna told Pansy, guiding her toward a nearby chair.

"It's the sun," Pansy agreed, nodding earnestly from her seat. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against Luna's hip. Luna smiled and winked at me, and I stifled a laugh. I looked back down at the phone in my hand. It was locked, and I frowned.

"It's not just the project, although that is a factor," I said to Luna. "I'm not exactly the type to just hand out the cookie to anybody. I usually have to tolerate the guy at least first."

"That's a fair point, Mione. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Luna replied. She glanced down at Pansy, who appeared to be falling asleep, and stroked her raven-black hair. Luna looked back to me, her blue eyes assessing me intently. "But I think that you're asking me because you actually do want to."

"Is that bad?" I asked with a grimace.

"No, it's not bad. Ask yourself this: are you worried about what people will think?"

I considered this for a second before answering. "No."

"Would it affect your job?"

"That, I'm not a hundred per cent clear on."

"Would you respect yourself in the morning?"

_Well, fuck. _

"It's just sex, Mione, and it's okay to want that. But if the answer to the question is not 'yes', keep the cookie in the jar," Luna looked down at Pansy again, still affectionately stroking her hair. Pansy gave an unladylike snort and stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

"Draco Malfoy has a very pretty dick," she slurred, her head lolling back against Luna.

"I am so fucking glad I chose this exact moment to enter the conversation," Harry announced from where he appeared beside me. "Obliviate me, please?"

Theo had also joined us, and he knelt beside Pansy.

"'Sloppy drunk' becomes you, Parkinson," Theo said. Pansy stirred only enough to flip him off, and he stood with a chuckle. "Well, I personally cannot vouch for the aesthetics of His Lordship's penis, but he _does_ have well-kept cuticles and lovely teeth. There is an obvious connection."

"Makes sense," Luna conceded with a shrug.

"Please stop," Harry groaned.

"Show me your cuticles, Potter?" Theo asked innocently. Harry's eyes widened.

"What? No," Harry replied emphatically, tucking the hand not holding a whiskey tumbler into his pocket.

I decided that the direction the conversation was heading did not need my involvement.

"I'm going to the ladies," I whispered to Luna, and I headed toward the bathrooms. On the way, Shacklebolt stopped me to wrap me in a friendly hug. "Hermione," he beamed, clasping my hands. "Your speech was wonderful."

"Thank you, Kingsley," I replied. "It's such a special night, and I'm so happy to be a part of it."

Shacklebolt gestured with an upwards flick of his chin to someone behind me. My stomach flipped when I turned to see Malfoy approaching. He came to stand beside me and shook hands with Shacklebolt.

"Excellent event, Mr Malfoy," Shacklebolt said, and then addressed us both. "I want to thank you both for your contributions to the Healers Project so far. I'm grateful."

"It's a pleasure, sir," Malfoy replied with a genuine smile, and I nodded in agreement.

_He really does have lovely teeth._

I thought about what Malfoy was actually offering: sex with a man I found deeply attractive. There was more than just the superficiality of his appearance I found appealing – I also admired his intelligence and his drive.

Would it really be the worst thing in the world to just have one night of casual sex, even with Malfoy?

_Will you respect yourself in the morning?_

I was shaken from my thoughts when Shacklebolt patted my arm affectionately as he bade us goodnight, and I found myself standing alone with Malfoy.

_Your move._

I handed Malfoy's phone back to him, and he looked at me expectantly.

"I haven't given you my address," I said to him. "It locked before I could make up my mind."

He nodded, and a small smile twitched at the corners of his lips.

"I should've guessed that you would need to run through every possible variable in your head before arriving at a logical conclusion. You're Hermione Granger."

"Teasing me is not going to get you the answer you want, Malfoy."

He chuckled and stepped closer to me. He lightly grasped my chin in his hand and brushed his thumb across my jaw.

"When I tease you, Granger, you'll know it. And you'll love what comes next," he drawled into my ear. He was close enough that I could breathe in the scent of his Bleu de Chanel cologne. I tilted my head up to meet Malfoy's eyes.

"Before I make up my mind, I need to take care of Pansy," I insisted, my voice thankfully not betraying the desire coursing through me. The corner of Malfoy's mouth lifted in a smirk, and he looked over his shoulder to our friends' table. Luna had taken a seat beside Pansy and was cradling the sleeping woman's head in the crook of her shoulder. Harry sat beside Luna, evidently still trying to keep his cuticles firmly out of view from Theo.

"Never let it be said that Pansy Parkinson is a wastrel when it comes to champagne," Malfoy declared, turning back to me. He gestured with a nod toward them. "Come on; we need to sort your friend out."

"I believe she is also _your _friend too, Malfoy," I pointed out as we moved toward the table. Harry had since given up trying to hide his hands from Theo and had laid them flat on the table in front of him, Theo inspecting them with a sly smile on his face.

"What is this? What is going on?" Malfoy asked me, gesturing to Theo and Harry.

"Theo believes there's a correlation between well-kept cuticles and pretty dicks," I answered with a sardonic smile. Malfoy shook his head.

"Theo sits down to piss," he said, loud enough for Theo to hear. "I wouldn't take him too seriously."

"I do NOT," Theo retorted vehemently. "The tip touches the water, and I don't like it."

"What a thrilling visual, Theodore, thank you," I winced, and moved to the other side of Pansy. "Come on, sweetheart. Time to head home." I retrieved my wand from my clutch and waved it over her head. The charm woke her, and she peeled herself from her resting spot on Luna's shoulder.

"Fucking sun," she yawned indelicately, stretching her arms out in front of her. "Every time."

I scooped up my clutch from the table, and the six of us collectively made our way to the entrance of the tent toward the apparition point. The charm I used on Pansy had worked to wake her up, but she was still intoxicated. She had her arms linked with mine and Luna's and was leaning on us heavily for support. Theo was chattering away to Harry, the latter unable to get a word in. I peered over my shoulder and saw that Malfoy was sauntering along behind them, deliberately hanging back.

We reached the apparition point, where surprisingly no-one else was waiting. Luna turned to look at me.

"Are you coming with us?" she asked with a small smile. I paused and glanced briefly at Malfoy, before looking back to Luna. Her smile spread, and she permitted a giggle.

"I know what I said earlier. But don't overthink it. There's nothing wrong with wanting a casual fling, Mione." Luna shifted to take Pansy's weight from me. "Be careful, and as our drunken flower here said earlier, get you some."

It sounded utterly wrong coming from Luna, and I couldn't help but giggle. I kissed her cheek and Pansy's, and they disapparated with a crack. I turned to look at Harry, and he offered me his arm. I shook my head.

"I haven't said goodnight to Shacklebolt yet, I really should do that before I leave," I explained, feeling guilty for the lie.

"But since you're offering," chirped Theo, stepping forward to link his arm with Harry's before disapparating them with a crack. Leaving Malfoy and I standing alone together.

"Any idea where Theo may have just taken my best friend?" I asked.

"If it's anything like last time…" he mused, conspiratorially. I paused for a moment waiting for him to continue.

"Yes?" I prompted him.

"No, I'm kidding. I have no idea where they've gone."

"That's really helpful."

Malfoy chuckled. He cleared his throat then turned to look at me.

"I really couldn't give a flying fuck where Theo and Potter have gone." His eyes were white-hot, and he reached out to place a tentative hand on my waist. "Look, Granger. I don't want to pressure you. I mean that. I've done some bad shit in the past, but I would _never_ pressure a woman into doing something that she wasn't okay with. But I've got to tell you, I'm really hoping -"

I cut him off with a kiss; my hand curled around the back of his neck. I pulled away, slightly breathless.

"Take me home, Malfoy."


	12. Chapter 12: Draco

**Chapter 12: Draco**

_Warning: adult content ahead._

* * *

Granger's kiss had taken me by surprise, but only for a second. I was bloody floored by what came out of her mouth next.

_Take me home, Malfoy._

I peered down at her, and she bit her lip. It had an instant effect on my cock, and I inhaled sharply.

"Yes, ma'am," I growled. I tightened my grip on her waist and apparated us directly into the living room of my apartment. Granger looked around, her brows furrowing together.

"I thought we'd be going to my place?" she asked, confused.

"You didn't give me your address, Granger. Is now really the time to discuss logistics?"

She gave an indifferent shrug. "'Spose not. At least this way I can just leave when you turn out to be a horrible disappointment in bed," she quipped, her red lips quirking up into a smirk.

"You've seen how I operate in a classroom and a boardroom, Granger. I think you know that I'll be far from disappointing in the bedroom." I discarded my tuxedo jacket and crossed the room to the bar cart in the corner. Granger slowly walked around the living room, assessing her surroundings.

"We'll see," she said simply, her eyes flicking across the bold black and white artwork on the walls. "This place is very you."

The only light in the room came from the moonlight and the city lights that streamed in through the large floor-to-ceiling windows. In the pale light, Granger's skin looked almost iridescent against the intense red of her dress. Her dress provided a stark contrast against the charcoal grey walls and dark furnishings of the room. _Salazar's balls, she's stunning. _

Granger dropped her clutch onto the couch and sauntered toward the bookshelves flanking either side of the modern fireplace, running her fingers carefully across the titles. As I watched her, I loosened my bow-tie, leaving it draped around my neck. I approached her with a glass of firewhiskey, which she accepted politely and immediately raised to her lips.

"It's too quiet in here," Granger remarked off-handedly.

"You want me to sing?"

"Mmm, I have other ideas for your mouth, Malfoy," Granger purred, and I almost dropped my glass.

"Oh, Granger," I growled. She laughed and took another sip of her drink, and I flicked my wand toward my music player. An atmospheric guitar intro reverberated around the room. Granger tilted her head to the side inquisitively.

"I don't know this song." Granger gestured vaguely in the air.

"_Closer_, by Kings of Leon," I answered. "And it's a damn good song."

Granger hummed in agreement and closed her eyes, the hint of a smile ghosting across her lips as she listened. I was already standing close to her, but she reached out to grasp the front of my shirt to pull me closer. Her eyes are still closed when she leaned in to run her nose along my jawline, and her grip tightened on my shirt. I set my empty tumbler on the mantle beside us and brushed her dark hair from her shoulder. I bent to press a kiss to the skin left exposed. Granger leaned away slightly and tipped back the rest of her drink. A drop of firewhiskey remained on her bottom lip, and her tongue darted out invitingly to sweep it away. Her gaze arced up, her brown eyes on mine.

"Your move, Malfoy."

It was all the invitation I needed, and I crushed my lips to hers. My hands rose to grip her face, and I deepened the kiss. Her tongue brushed across mine, a hint of cinnamon from the firewhiskey lingering, and I mentally catalogued it into my top two favourite flavours of all time.

Granger moaned against my mouth, and her hands started making short work of my shirt buttons. I momentarily broke the kiss.

"Bedroom," I demanded authoritatively, kissing her hard again.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do," she whispered against my mouth, and I held her face in my hands again.

"So help me, Granger. You can get your arse down the hallway and into my bedroom yourself, or I'll carry you over my fucking shoulder."

"How very caveman, Malfoy. The 21st century must be rough for you," Granger retorted with a grin, her hands still gripping my shirt.

"You can have it rough if you want it, Granger," I growled, moving my hand down and squeezing her arse for emphasis. "Just get in the fucking bedroom."

She raised an eyebrow defiantly before grabbing my hand and sauntering out of the room, the fading notes of the song following us into my bedroom. Granger returned to her task of divesting me of my shirt, and she pushed the shirt from my shoulders. I not-so-gently turned her around and pushed her hair away from her neck, removing her diamond necklace.

"I don't want anything getting in my way of that pretty throat," I growled in her ear, and she reached behind her to squeeze my thighs. I tossed the necklace onto the floor, and she gasped.

"That's a loan!" Granger cried and made a move to pick it up. I quickly wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her firm, and I pressed my lips to the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

"Ah, fuck it, I'll worry about it later," she breathed, and my chuckle was muffled against her neck. Her enticing scent of roses and rain filled my senses again. My left hand moved to splay against her hip, and I held her against me so she could feel the evidence of my arousal against her arse. I bared my teeth against her neck, and her head lolled back against my shoulder with a moan. Reaching behind her, I found the zipper on her dress and slowly eased it down. Her dress pooled around her feet, her heels still on, and she turned to face me. Her sheer lingerie blended with the tone of her skin and was edged in a delicate lace the same vivid red of her dress. My breath hitched in my throat.

_Fuck me, the body on this woman. _

I reached behind her and unclasped her strapless bra with one hand. Her breasts were perfect; full and high with perfectly pink nipples, and I bent my head to take one into my mouth, my hand massaging the other breast.

"Oh, shit," Granger whispered and ran her fingers into my hair. I teased and licked at her nipple until it was firm and taut beneath my tongue before releasing her.

"Get on the bed, Granger," I said, my voice rumbling deep in my throat. She glared at me for a second but took a seat on the bed and used the waistband of my trousers to pull me closer. I stood directly before her, my arousal at her eye-level. She reached up to palm me through my trousers, and I brushed my fingers along her jawline. She squeezed me, firmly enough to make me hiss through my teeth, and releasing me to palm me again. She stared up at me intently as her hands worked on my belt buckle, whipping the belt free from the loops with a crack. I bent down to catch her mouth in a kiss and began working my way down her jaw to her neck. I knelt on the floor before her and continued kissing a path down her torso, her back arching off the bed the lower I went.

She parted her legs, and I bit down on the flesh of her inner thigh. Granger let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a cry of pleasure and pain, and leaned back on her elbows. I removed her shoes, and eased her knickers down her legs, surreptitiously stuffing them into the pocket of my trousers.

_I'll decide later if she gets these pretties back._

Granger's eyes were on me as I pressed light kisses against the insides of her thighs. When I finally lowered my mouth to her most sensitive area, she tipped her head back with a moan.

"Fuck yes, Malfoy," she groaned. "About time you did something good with that mouth of yours."

I responded by stroking her clit with my tongue, her hands reaching down to twist in my hair. I slowly eased a finger inside her and relished the way her hips bucked against my mouth. Her breath was coming in short pants, and I continued to work her clit with my tongue. She tasted better than anything I'd imagined when I'd fantasised about her. Granger's hands moved from my hair to my forearms, her nails digging in and leaving imprints in my inked skin.

I added a second finger to the first, feeling the flex of her thighs against my head. Her legs began trembling, and the sounds from her pretty red mouth were getting louder. With one final twist of my wrist, I lifted my mouth from her clit and rose from my kneeling position before her.

"Motherfucker! Why'd you stop?" Granger sat up and looked murderously at me. "I was close!"

"Kiss your mother with that mouth, Granger?" I asked with a smirk, unbuttoning my trousers.

"Oh, _now _who's not too low-brow for a 'yo mama' joke?" she hissed at me. I winked at her and removed my trousers and underwear at the same time, permitting her a look at my not-inconsiderable length. Her mouth dropped open.

"Something to say, Granger?" I asked, as I slowly ran my hand up and down my shaft.

"You do have a very pretty dick," she whispered, her tongue sweeping across her lower lip.

"Is that it? Fucking read the room, Granger." I dropped my hand, exasperated, but she wasn't listening. Instead, she had leaned back on her elbows again, parting her knees wide.

_Emasculation be damned._

I took a step forward and leaned over her, and I saw the dip of her throat as she swallowed. Her eyes looked like molten gold, and her hands ran up over my arms and across my chest.

"How do you want it?" I asked her, positioning myself at her entrance. Her hands gripped my hair.

"Hard," she answered through gritted teeth.

I thrust into her in just the way she asked for it, and Granger cried out. I stilled immediately; her thighs tensed around my hips. I pressed my forehead to hers, and when I was sure her cry hadn't been from pain, I began to move slowly, deliberately. She felt fucking amazing, and I told her so.

"I've had better," she taunted with a wicked grin, taking my lower lip between her teeth. I let out a low growl and reached down to wrap her legs around my waist, raising her hips higher. The change in angle allowed me to thrust deeper into her, and she cried out again.

Sweat began to form on our skin, and I lowered my torso to hers, savouring the slick feel of her skin against mine. I increased my pace and felt Granger's legs fall away from my waist, her fingernails digging into my ribs. The sound of _Ball and Biscuit _by the White Stripes filled the spaces in the air between Granger's and my noises, creating the perfect soundtrack to our frenetic fucking.

"Oh fuck, Malfoy," Granger gasped, her jaw slackening from pleasure. "_Please_, I'm almost there."

Her words sparked an electric current in the base of my spine, and I knew I had to get her there soon. I leaned back on my haunches and reached down to swipe my thumb across her clit. I was rewarded with her back arching off the bed.

"Oh yes, again," she panted.

"Manners, Granger," I said with a growl, thrusting deeply into her.

"Please, Malfoy," she hissed, and she dug her nails into my thighs. "_I'm so close."_

I swept my thumb in a slow circle across her clit again. A primal scream ripped from her throat as her climax tore through her. I felt her pulse around me, and I chased the feeling into my own release. I collapsed against her, shuddering as I poured myself into her.

The song had long ended, and my bedroom was silent except for our panting as we both fought to regain our breath. Granger released her fingers from where she'd tangled them in my hair, and I eased myself off her and onto my side.

"Fuck, Granger, that was fantastic," I breathed, swiping a hand across my forehead.

"It really fucking was," she replied with a smirk, and she sat up abruptly, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and standing up.

I propped myself up on my elbows and watched her as she moved toward where her dress lay discarded on the floor. She bent over smoothly to retrieve the gown, providing me with an unadulterated view of her perfect arse. Rather than slide the dress on immediately, she slung it over her arm and stooped to pick up her bra and her shoes. It was evident in the graceful way she moved and her lack of urgency to dress that Granger was totally at ease with her body.

"Where are my knickers?" She looked around the room, moving to collect the diamond necklace that I had carelessly tossed onto the floor.

"Dunno." I shrugged. She glowered at me.

"Where are my bloody knickers, Malfoy?" she asked, more impatiently this time.

"You know, you're doing the awkward post-sex thing right, Granger," I remarked casually, resting my hands behind my head. "You're yelling at me, but you're wonderfully naked. Well played."

I was forced to duck when one of Granger's heels came hurtling at me, thudding ineffectively off my forearm.

"Use your words, Granger!" I yelped.

"Give me back my knickers!" she shouted.

"No," I retorted. "Shan't."

"Malfoy!"

"Granger."

She seethed at me a moment longer before expelling a forceful sigh. "Prick. Where's your bathroom?"

I pointed to the door to her left and watched with amusement as she turned and stalked toward the bathroom.

"I knew you'd be a massive disappointment!" she snapped over her shoulder.

I laughed. "Liar."


	13. Chapter 13: Hermione

**Chapter 13: Hermione**

I closed the bathroom door behind me and stood at the vanity. I looked into the mirror, evaluating my reflection. My lipstick was gone, and my hair was a mess. I turned on the tap and pressed cold water onto my face. I quickly patted my face dry with a dark grey towel from a neatly rolled stack under the sink and looked at myself again.

He was right - I was a liar. He was far from disappointing. That was easily the best sex I'd ever had, from a man I wasn't even sure I liked. I recalled Luna's advice.

_Will you respect yourself in the morning?_

I remembered his hands and his mouth on me. Oh, dear God, that mouth. There was only one thing he should ever do with that mouth, and it sure as fuck was not talking. I ran my fingers across my throat where faint marks were beginning to bloom, and I felt a shiver run through me when I recalled the feeling of Malfoy's teeth bared against my neck. The muscles in my body were beginning to ache in delicious ways, and my décolletage still glowed with a thin sheen of sweat.

If sex with a man I didn't like was _that_ good, respect.

But I still didn't know this relationship with Malfoy would affect the Project.

I dressed quickly, disregarding my lack of undergarment, and exited the bathroom. Malfoy was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, dressed only in his trousers. His eyes assessed me intently as I approached the bed.

"I'm going to go," I announced, perhaps unnecessarily. Malfoy nodded and pulled his wand from his pocket. He aimed his wand wordlessly toward the door, the silent _Accio_ bringing my clutch into my hands.

"Should've thought of that with my knickers," I muttered, kneeling on the bed and stretching to retrieve my shoe.

"Glad you didn't. I like the idea of you bare under your dress." The corner of Malfoy's mouth lifted in a wicked smirk.

"Is that why you're keeping them like a creeper?"

Malfoy crossed the room slowly to stand before me, removing my knickers from his trouser pocket. He leaned down to run his nose along my neck below my ear.

"When you're sore tomorrow, you'll know who did it to you." His voice was low and alluring, and he held up my knickers. "Consider these _my _memento for this evening."

_Well, fuck._

I inhaled a shaky breath, and I set my hands against his chest to push him away gently. "I really should go."

Malfoy nodded again and, placing a hand on my lower back, guided me back toward his living room. Stopping in front of his fireplace, I turned to look at him.

"So this was obviously a one-off," I said, trying to sound convincing, probably failing.

"Sure it is, Granger."

"It is."

"Okay."

"It _is."_

"Got it."

"We don't like each other," I reminded him.

"Mere triviality, apparently," he answered. I sighed.

"And the Project?"

He stilled and looked down at his feet before glancing back up at me. "I won't tell if you won't?"

I nodded and extended my hand to him. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

He looked at my outstretched hand and snorted derisively.

"God, you suck at this." Malfoy reached his hand behind my head and kissed me hard before releasing me. "Goodnight, Granger."

I stepped into the fireplace and turned to look at him. His smirk was the last thing I saw before I arrived back in my apartment.

I pulled my phone from my clutch as I walked to my bedroom. Three messages. One from Harry:

_"Hey Hermione. Just letting you know that I'm fine. Nott apparated us to some remote Scandinavian outpost/sauna run by a man named Oaken. Odd choice since I think the owner may be gay and the whole establishment seems to cater to a particular clientele that frankly I don't think you'd be welcome in. But they all liked my cuticles, so, winning? I think? Anyway, I'm fine, and I'm home. Talk to you soon."_

Another was from Pansy:

_"GET IT, MIONE!"_

The last was from Luna:

_"I brought Pansy home to her place. She was awake for a while but she's sleeping again now. I have a feeling she'll have a terrible headache tomorrow. Funny how something as whimsical as bubbles could be so wicked. Anyway, I'll stay with her tonight. Hope you had a nice time with Malfoy tonight. You're not doing anything wrong."_

I sighed and headed toward my bathroom—shower time.

The following evening, I was in my living room with Pansy and Luna, eating Thai out of take-out cartons, Coldplay playing softly in the background.

Pansy was sitting on the floor, wearing black and grey printed yoga tights and a black sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder.

"I know you've had all day to recover, but still, you should not look that good after the amount of champagne you put away last night, bitch face," I scowled at her.

"Praise be to the wonderful wizard who discovered how to brew an anti-hangover potion," Pansy remarked, around a mouthful of pad thai. "I am still tired, so there is a lesson to be learned here. Which is…?" Pansy prompted me with a wave of her chopsticks.

"Stay out of the sun?" I answered with a shrug.

"That's right, kids."

"It might have been the Nargles," Luna added with an airy smile from where she sat cross-legged on the couch.

"It was not Nargles. It was Dom Perignon, the wicked bastard," Pansy replied. "Anyway, enough about me. I would like to talk about you." Pansy jabbed her chopsticks in my direction, her blue eyes flashing.

I played dumb. "What about me?"

Pansy scoffed. "Let's not be coy, Granger. You went home with Draco last night."

I felt my face flush. "We went back to his place, we had a drink, and that's all."

Pansy quirked a perfectly sculpted brow at me. "Bollocks. Draco doesn't invite anyone to his house. Even Theo's only ever been there once. I'm convinced Draco's harbouring a family of Romanian fugitives. Or perhaps he has a Red Room of Pain or something."

"That's oddly specific, Pans. Projecting?"

"Not about the Romanian fugitives."

I laughed and shook my head. "What is your point?"

"My point _is_, did Draco open the cookie jar?"

I turned to Luna. "Did you have to tell her?"

Luna shrugged. "I liked the metaphor. And I like cookies."

"The question is, does Draco like cookies?" Pansy leaned forward, enthusiastically slapping a hand on the coffee table.

"You need to chill," I said.

"You don't own me."

"Okay, fine. Yes, Malfoy likes cookies," I relented with a chuckle.

Pansy paused for a moment, her eyes closed and a hand pressed to her temple. "Okay, there's an image. Oh, no. You just ruined cookies for me entirely." Pansy's lip curled in disgust, and she pushed her pad thai carton away melodramatically.

"You _just_ asked me -" I insisted.

"I know what I said."

Ignoring Pansy, Luna grasped my hand. "And are you feeling okay about it, Mione?"

I had been exhausted when I got home last night, and after showering had fallen straight to sleep. I had been waiting for remorse to hit me like a truck, but it was more like a niggling finger between my ribs. But the Project had been on my mind for most of the day. No-one saw me kiss him last night at the benefit, and the flirting in the main tent was brief enough not to raise suspicion.

Personally, Malfoy was still the most arrogant bastard I'd ever met, and my feelings swung between wanting to strangle him with his tie or use it to pull him against me so I could lick his jaw. And the sex was bloody sensational.

"Short answer, Luna – yes," I replied.

"Then you don't have to tell us any more than that."

"I actually insist that you don't tell us any more than that," Pansy remarked. "Actually, no. You should share. It is important to debrief."

"What is wrong with you?" I asked. "Do you want to know or not?"

"Not," she responded immediately. "Yes. No." She paused again, considering. "Yes, but don't call them cookies. I'll never again enjoy a white chocolate blondie without a visual of Draco's rutting arse."

"You seem frustrated, Pansy," Luna commented. "Are you not intimate with anyone right now?"

Pansy fell silent, her mouth snapping shut.

"Holy shit, she's gone quiet!" I cackled.

"This is not about me, you are deflecting," Pansy sniffed indignantly.

"I mean, there really isn't much to it," I replied. "We only did it once, and we agreed that it was a one-time thing. That's all she wrote."

"Can I give you my advice?" Pansy began. "I can tell you one thing about Draco Malfoy. He's not a complicated man. He values loyalty above all else." Pansy looked at me, intently. "He can be an absolute sodding arse sometimes, but for all of his faults, Draco really is a good man. Just don't fuck him over, and he'll be on your side for life."

It was rare that Pansy discussed her friendship with Malfoy, and I was unsure how to respond to her, other than to offer a small smile. Pansy smiled back, then stood up and stretched languidly. "When's Ginny back?"

"Tomorrow," Luna answered.

"Okay. Drinks this Friday with the four of us?" Pansy asked as she leaned over to kiss Luna on the forehead.

"Only if you stay away from the bubbles," I replied.

"Bubbles!" Luna added gleefully.

"Yeah, please sass me, Granger, so I'll forget to drop off the new Prada dress that's coming in this week…" Pansy stood before me, her arms outstretched for a hug.

"I'm kidding! I'm totally kidding, drink all the bubbles!" I cried, leaping up and wrapping my arms around her waist. "Thank you for the advice," I whispered.

"You're welcome," she whispered back, squeezing me tighter for a second and then releasing me. "Thank you for dinner."

Pansy stepped into the fireplace and was gone in a flash.

"I should go home too. My dad might start to worry if I'm home too late." Luna smiled, but her eyes were sad. Her father, Xenophilius, began suffering anxiety during the war, and it only worsened during his brief imprisonment in Azkaban. It was the main reason why she took over _The Quibbler_ from him. Luna started picking up our empty cartons.

"Leave it. I'll take care of it. Go home, give my love to your dad." I wrapped Luna in a hug. "And thank you."

She tilted her head. "For what?"

"For being you. For making sure I know that's it's okay to get out of my head occasionally."

"Oh, that's alright. Your head would be a lovely place to live in, but sometimes you need to spend some time outside of it. Clears out the wrackspurts," she nodded earnestly, stepping into the fireplace and waving as she Floo'd away.

As I set about tidying up my living room, my phone alerted me to an email notification. It was from Shacklebolt.

_"Hermione, _

_I need you at my office at 8:00 am tomorrow. _

_\- Kingsley." _

Shit.


	14. Chapter 14: Draco

**Chapter 14: Draco**

"Mr Malfoy? Minister Shacklebolt will see you now."

I took a deep breath and strode into Shacklebolt's office, closing the door behind me.

"Please, take a seat, Mr Malfoy." Shacklebolt gestured to one of the plush chairs at his desk, his attention on the document in his hand. I sat in silence for a few moments as Shacklebolt signed his name with a flourish on the page before turning his attention to me.

"Mr Malfoy, do you know why I asked you here today?" he asked me, his large hands folded before him on the desk.

"I would assume it's to discuss the Project, sir," I answered.

"Indeed, Mr Malfoy. Your interest in the success of the Project has been admirable, and as I said on Saturday evening, your investment and support has been outstanding."

"You're welcome, sir. Again, Nott and I are happy to be part of it."

Shacklebolt smiled. "But something important has been brought to my attention that I must address. Something that you have been let's say, 'working on' with Miss Granger."

My blood ran cold, and I swallowed the sudden knot that formed in my throat. "Sir, I don't know what you mean -"

Shacklebolt cut me off with a raised hand. "Mr Malfoy, let's save some time and just assume that I did not get to where I am by being an idiot."

"Yes, sir," I sighed defeatedly, dreading what was coming next.

"I discovered something very interesting yesterday, and I must say -" Shacklebolt paused. "- I am very impressed."

My head snapped up, and I stared at Shacklebolt, confused.

"I was looking for a report that Miss Granger told me she had left on her desk and I came across some notes that appeared to have been from her last meeting with you."

"And you could _read _them, sir?" Relief washed over me like a wave.

"Barely," he chuckled. "You two came up with some ideas that I want to be developed into more specific plans to be presented to the Muggle government. I spoke with Miss Granger this morning; she will continue on the Project as our legal counsel, and I'd like your input into the investment required to fund it."

"Of course, sir," I smiled. "Leave it with me."

Shacklebolt's expression turned serious again, and he leaned forward in his chair. "Now, it is no secret to anyone that you have a tense relationship with Miss Granger."

I thought back to the other night. _I've had better, _she'd said. Even when she was naked and beneath me, Granger was a harpy shrew.

"We have a complex history. But we can keep it professional," I replied with a tight smile.

"Good," he said. "At least with you two, there's no need to remind you that a romantic relationship is off-limits while you're involved the Project."

Granger's voice floated into my head again. _Don't fucking tell me what to do, Malfoy._

I gave a wry chuckle. "No problem. Certainly no romantic feelings there at all, sir."

Shacklebolt rose from his seat and offered me his hand. "I look forward to hearing from you soon, Mr Malfoy."

I shook his hand. "Thank you for your time, sir."

* * *

I Floo'd back to my office and had barely taken a seat at my desk when Sara appeared at my door.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr Malfoy but Miss Granger is here to see you."

_This should be interesting. _"Show her in, Sara."

Sara nodded and returned to her desk. A few moments later, Granger strode into my office. I flicked my wand at the door to close.

"Missed me already, Granger? It's only been a few days."

"Hardly, Malfoy. You should've kept the door open," Granger said, pointing at the door behind her.

"Ah, but then Sara might hear you tell me I have a pretty dick again."

"What part of, 'this is obviously a one-off,' was I unclear about, Malfoy?"

"You were very clear. I'm just not in the business of letting other people make decisions for me."

Granger's eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "You're an arrogant bastard, aren't you?"

"This is not news, Granger," I replied coolly. "So what can I do for you? Did you come all this way to get your knickers back, or to leave me with another pair?"

"Listen, Malfoy, you _loathsome cockroach - _" Granger screeched, leaning over my desk with her palms flat. I cast a quick _muffliato _around my office, and Granger's face flushed to match the deep wine colour of her dress. Remembering herself, she straightened, clearing her throat before delicately taking a seat opposite me.

"Nice one, Granger. Tell me, are you extra harpy on special occasions or is it the same flavour, all day every day?"

"I reserve a special flavour, just for you."

I smirked. "Your flavour is delicious, Granger."

"For fuck sake, would you stop? I'm just here to talk to you about something important."

I was enjoying riling her up, but I relented. "Fine, shoot."

Granger exhaled deeply. "I know I said it the other night, but I just want to make it clear to you that what happened the other night between us cannot happen again."

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my ankle over my knee and folding my hands in my lap. "So you've said. Multiple times."

"I'm saying it now so you know it wasn't just a knee-jerk, heat of the moment kind of reaction. I am never having sex with you ever again."

"I understand."

"There's just too much at stake, and plus I really don't like you at all."

"Sorry, I'm confused. Do you want to have sex with me sometimes, all the time or never? I can't tell, you're being vague."

"You're not taking this seriously," Granger said, exasperated.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Of course, I'm taking it seriously. I can barely tolerate your hellcat disposition at the best of times. I'm hardly offering myself up for a repeat performance."

Inexplicably, she looked almost hurt. "Well, good. A lot is riding on the success of this Project -"

"I know."

"- and it would be such a terrible shame to waste such an incredible opportunity on something as stupid as this -"

"Agreed."

"- and could you imagine having to tell Shacklebolt!" Granger was rambling again, her eyes darting back and forth across the width of my desk. "I mean, he'd likely never believe it anyway, he'd think I was ridiculous!"

"This whole conversation is _riddikulus_," I deadpanned. Granger's eyes stopped moving and fixed on me. "Sorry, couldn't help myself."

Granger's eyebrow arched and practically disappeared into her hairline. I leaned forward to rest my arms on my desk.

"Granger, I get it, okay? I got the same spiel from Shacklebolt about keeping it professional. Now, I am a _fantastic_ shag, but even I know that one night of great sex is not enough for either of us to lose our business sense. So, if you can manage to keep your hands to yourself -" Granger's mouth opened to retort but I continued. "- then I can too, and the Project will roll on nicely as if nothing had ever happened, okay?"

Granger exhaled deeply again and stood up.

"Okay, thank you." She smoothed the front of her dress and turned to leave. I stood up and followed her to the door. Granger paused beside me, her hand extended.

"Always so formal, Granger," I smirked and clasped her hand. The skin of her hand felt cool in mine, and her perfume surrounded me again. Her soft berry-stained lips parted slightly when I squeezed her hand, and her eyes flicked up to meet mine.

"Malfoy." She intended it to be a warning but her words came out like a whisper, and I could tell she was waging the same internal battle that I was. She didn't try to pull her hand away, so I leaned close to her ear.

"Are you still sore?"

Granger inhaled sharply. She pressed her other hand to my chest as she shook her head.

"I've thought about nothing but the way you felt on my tongue, Granger," I said lowly. She shivered but moved to lean back against the door.

"I shouldn't want this," she said, arching her back to press her hips against mine. "It's not good for either of us." I dropped her hand and took a small step backwards.

"So say no," I said simply.

_Your move, Granger._

* * *

_**A/N: Please review!**_


	15. Chapter 15: Hermione

**_Chapter 15: Hermione_**

_So say no._

Every part of my brain was telling me to say no. Malfoy was giving me an out, and my head was screaming at me to take it. But the molten, white-fire heat in his eyes had turned my insides to liquid, and I couldn't form words.

I reached for his silver tie and dragged him closer. His chest pressed to mine as I kissed him hard, his tongue deftly sweeping across mine. His left hand braced against the door next to my head, his other hand reaching down my thigh to my knee, hitching it up over his hip so he could press against me. I relished in the friction from his growing arousal against my clit, and a moan slipped from my lips. His hand moved again to smooth my dress up along my thigh before slipping between my legs, long fingers tracing the edge of my lacy underwear. I felt him brush lightly across my clit over my underwear. I released an involuntary shudder at the sensation, desire spreading like lava through me. How could my body react this way to a man I had for so long _despised_?

Malfoy moved his hand from the door to grasp me gently on the throat. The sound of my gasp was caught in his mouth, and I pressed my hips harder against his hand. I'd never been touched that way before, and my body was betraying my better senses; I craved more of what he was doing to me. Malfoy was a man used to getting what he wanted, and conveniently, he wanted me.

_I'm just not in the business of letting other people make decisions for me._

His lips found the sensitive spot below my ear, and my head lolled back to give him easier access. I felt like I was melting on the inside. The tips of his long fingers pressed lightly against my pulse, and I reached for his belt, my eagerness making me fumble with the buckle. I felt him smirk against my neck.

I unfastened his trousers and reached below the waistband of his underwear to free his cock. He was heavy, long and hard in my palm, and to my absolute horror, I actually mewed. I swirled my thumb over the glistening tip, a low growl rumbling from his throat. He stopped his ministrations on my clit just long enough to rip my lacy knickers off me. The sharp bite of the fabric against my skin stung sweetly, and I hoped for a brief, sick moment that it would leave a mark.

"Finish what you started, Granger," he growled. He gripped my knee where it was still hooked up over his hip, his other hand leaving my throat to grab my arse tightly. I guided the tip of his cock to my entrance. A lesser woman would be disturbed by the noise I made when he pushed into me but _fuck, _he felt amazing.

My nails dug into his back as he thrust into me, the angle he was holding me in positioning him perfectly against my clit. My head fell back against the door, my eyes closed. I couldn't recall a time when I had given in to my baser instincts like this. Even the first time with Malfoy hadn't been so unleashed.

"Look at me," Malfoy whispered.

"No," I answered, my body lost to the waves of pleasure he was giving. I felt the wave begin to crest when he pulled out swiftly. He picked me up effortlessly and deposited me on his desk.

"Look at me, Granger," he hissed, more forcefully this time. And because I thought he was going to leave me hanging, I fixed him with a fierce glare. He smiled an arrogant smile, his tongue slipping out to sweep across his bottom lip. He got what he wanted from me, and he gripped my knees to pull me closer to the edge of his desk, thrusting into me again. I groaned in response, unable to form words as each thrust drove him deeper and deeper into me.

"Do you want me to make you come, Granger?" he asked, his voice gravelly. One hand moved from my knee to my hip, holding me steady as he continued his punishing rhythm. "I promise I'll give it to you."

"Oh, God, stop talking." I reached for his tie again, dragging him down and kissing him. I wrapped my legs around him, his hips curling, again and again, to deliver perfect pressure to my clit, and I felt my orgasm building low in my belly. When he bared his teeth against my neck, I felt the warmth spread along my spine and through my hips. My body jerked against his, my thighs tightening around his waist, and I cried out. With his chest against mine, Malfoy's release came shortly after, his groan muffled against my neck.

As we rode the wave down, Malfoy braced his hand against the desk beside my head, looking down at me. His hair was dishevelled, his tie and shirt askew. The storm had cleared from his eyes, and they'd returned to their usual glacial grey. He looked utterly gorgeous. _Bastard._

"The polite thing to say is 'thank you', Granger," he smirked, pulling out of me.

"You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me!" I shrieked, sitting up. Malfoy chuckled and caught my lips in a kiss before straightening to fasten his trousers. I rose from the desk and looked across the room for my discarded knickers. I held them up; they were utterly ruined.

"_Thank you_ for destroying a perfectly good pair of knickers," I retorted. Malfoy had moved to his private bathroom; he stood at the mirror, adjusting his tie. I caught his reflection, and he winked at me.

_Arrogant arsehole._

He walked out of his bathroom and crossed the floor to stand before me. "I told you, I like the thought of you bare under your dress."

"I am a Ministry official, Malfoy, not one of your myriad airheaded, trust-fund, society groupies!" I argued. "I can't attend meetings without my knickers!"

"What would the neighbours think?" he laughed with mock horror. "What kind of meetings are you attending where another Ministry official might discover that you aren't wearing underwear anyway?" A storm cloud passed his eyes briefly, and his tone changed from joking to more serious. "Granger?"

I was puzzled by his sudden change in demeanour. "What are you talking ab -"

"I don't share, Granger," Malfoy interrupted with finality.

I wanted to slap him. I scoffed at him, wholly affronted. "How dare you, Malfoy. Go fuck yourself."

He blinked at the viciousness in my tone. I gathered my bag from where I'd left it beside a chair and promptly turned toward to the Floo.

"_Wait_, wait, I'm sorry." Malfoy reached out to grab my wrist, which I wrenched out of his grasp.

"You do _not _get to say things like that, Malfoy!" I was furious, and I advanced toward him, my finger jabbing angrily at him. "You think because you've been inside me _twice_ that you can tell me what I can and cannot do? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Malfoy held his hands up, apologetically. "You're right, I'm sorry -"

"And not that it is any business of yours, but I haven't had any kind of relationship since I broke up with Ron three years ago. I work _hard,_ and I value my career. How dare you presume that I just hand out the cookie to any man who happens to work for the Ministry!"

"What the fuck is the cookie?"

"_Malfoy," _I seethed warningly, my hand reaching into my bag for my wand.

"I'm sorry, okay? I mean that. It was the wrong thing to say," Malfoy said. He took hold of my hand and gently pressed his lips to the back of it. "I'm sorry."

"You basically called me a whore," I murmured.

"I did _not_ call you a whore," he shot back. "I would never dare say that about any woman. Yes, I made an arsehole comment, but I did not call you a whore." His tone was firm, and he dropped my hand. "Were you calling _me_ a whore when you said I had 'myriad groupies'?"

I was still pissed as hell at him, but he was right. The implication was the same.

"Okay, you're right," I conceded, lifting a hand. "I apologise."

Malfoy opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a loud ding from my phone - a meeting reminder.

"I have to go," I said, placing the phone back into my bag. His brow creased momentarily, and he smoothed his thumb over my cheek near the corner of my mouth.

"Lipstick," he remarked simply. "It's gone now."

Despite his almost tender touch, I could feel the air between us was still tense. Not ten minutes ago, I'd surrendered to the wildest version of myself, practically ordering _Draco Malfoy _to fuck me against his office wall with his assistant sitting outside. Now, I was facing off with him again. The paradox was jarring.

"What are we doing, Malfoy?" I asked quietly.

He smirked. "I don't know. But par for the course is that we hook up, you tell me this won't happen again. I refuse to believe you, and then you leave."

I opened my mouth to retort. Malfoy quirked his eyebrow at me, daring me to disagree. I turned and entered the Floo without another word.

I arrived back at my office and headed straight for my bathroom. My hair that had been carefully styled waves this morning was a mess, my dress creased from where Malfoy had shoved it up to my hips. I looked thoroughly fucked and barely presentable. A quick beauty charm quickly disguised any evidence that I had shagged Malfoy on his desk. The thought simultaneously horrified me and thrilled me.

I needed to get it together. I was a grown woman, strong and independent. I had helped take down Voldemort, so maintaining my professionalism for the sake of my career should not be difficult. I began reeling through my recent memories of Malfoy.

_"__Calm down, Granger, it's a handshake. Not a marriage proposal."_

_"Don't flatter yourself, Granger. I also have standards, and you're far from it."_

_"__Who'd have thought the brightest witch of our age would scrub up so nicely? Quite the ugly duckling story."_

Shit, this would be bloody easy. I took my new determination and marched out the door to my next meeting.


	16. Chapter 16: Draco

**Chapter 16: Draco**

_Bugger, shit, fuck._

I tried for a while to distract myself from my tryst with Granger by working. A tough ask, considering the first thing I had to do was straighten my desk. A few documents, my laptop and the signed and mounted Golden Snitch from a Quidditch World Cup had all been unceremoniously pushed to the side to make room for Granger's delectable arse. My pulse shuddered at the thought.

The smooth skin of her thigh under my touch. The rasp of her voice in my ear.

I was coming undone.

Growing up in a household like mine taught me a lot about compartmentalising and remaining stoic in the face of adversity. While I no longer needed these skills to protect myself from He-Who-Had-No-Snout, they had proven to be powerful tools throughout my business career. The ability to remove the emotion from a business transaction, to analyse a situation, and do what was needed to negotiate a profitable venture. It is what I was known for, and is what made me a very successful businessman.

Now, I could barely think of anything but _Granger. _When she showed up in my office after visiting Shacklebolt, her visit seemed unnecessary at first. Still, it became apparent to me fairly quickly that she was after some kind of reassurance that I wasn't going to derail her career by outing her. Not sure that shagging her against my office door was the best way of proving that her job wasn't at risk in my hands, but she was calling the shots there.

After a few unsuccessful attempts to review some venture proposals that had landed on my desk, I gave up. Granger's scent was infused into my shirt, bringing memories of her chest pressed to mine unbidden into my mind.

_Fuck it, _I thought, dialling Theo's number.

"Theo's Seven Floors of Whores, how may we please you today?" Theo announced on loud-speaker, a sing-song tone in his voice.

"Jesus, you can't answer the phone like that, Theo. Have you lost your mind?"

"Hmm, your tone suggests that you require something stronger than the usual pony play and arse-tickling, Lord Malfoy. Might I suggest our Portuguese special -"

"LUNCH, Theo! Do you want to go for lunch?" I yelled. "Fuck me. I regret it every time I call you."

"You have such delicate sensibilities, Draco," Theo replied with a laugh. "Meet you in ten."

* * *

Taking a seat at our usual lunch place, I immediately called for a drink. Theo's eyebrow quirked at me.

"Bit early for a gin, isn't it?" he asked casually, though he ordered one for himself. "Something on your mind?"

"Can't a bloke order a drink without a reason?"

"Not when it's barely midday on a Monday. Surely you haven't fucked anything up in the four or so hours since you got to work this morning."

"No, I usually leave the general fuckery to you."

"So what gives?" Theo smiled politely at the waiter as our drinks arrived. I swallowed mine in one hit, grimacing as I gestured for another.

"Oh, dear Jesus fuck, what did you do?" Theo asked, his expression serious.

I couldn't tell him about Granger. He already had to keep it quiet about the kiss. He had just as much invested in the Project as I did, therefore just as much at stake. It occurred to me at that moment that I hadn't even thought about the risk I was taking with Theo's investment. My stomach fell further as I considered the implication. _Fuck, this thing with Granger needs to stop. _I cleared my throat.

"Nothing, mate. Just had a meeting with Shacklebolt this morning." I paused, awaiting his reaction. Theo placed his menu back on the table and leaned back in his seat. He ran his fingers across his mouth as he eyed me carefully. "Nothing serious," I added quickly, rushing to reassure him.

"No need to tell me, mate. The way you drank that gin said it for you," Theo replied with a gesture of his hand. "I'm sure if it was serious, you'd tell me." He fixed me with a bold stare. I felt like an arsehole for not telling him the truth, but I couldn't burden him with keeping this a secret as well. After a few moments pause, Theo reached for his drink.

"Unrelated, but how is the effervescent sunbeam that is Miss Granger?" Theo asked, his sharp blue gaze still eyeing me over the top of his glass. I worked hard to keep my expression neutral.

"Why do you ask?"

"Saw her outside your office this morning. Just wondered if she was maybe the cause of the drink."

"No, it's not about her," I answered with a brief shake of my head, a carefully constructed show of nonchalance. "She spoke to Shacklebolt this morning as well, so she just stopped by to discuss the next move."

Theo didn't seem convinced but was prevented from asking anything else by the arrival of the waiter to take our order. The pit of my stomach burned. I fucking hated lying to my best mate. As I dropped my eyes to the menu before me, I caught a subtle whiff of Granger's perfume from my shirt again. _Smells like roses and rain and guilt. Fuck, I hope Theo can't smell it. _

"So, Blaise is back in town this weekend," Theo remarked after the waiter left. Thankfully, it seemed he was going to let the conversation go. "Wants to know if we want to go for a drink with him on Friday night."

"Depends. Is he choosing the place?" Last time we went to a venue of Blaise's choosing, we ended up at an exclusive club where one can casually sip vodka gimlets while watching the entertainers perform various sexual acts on one another. All beautifully choreographed and remarkably tasteful given the content of the performances but, if it were up to me, not something I'd choose to do with my mates.

"No, I told him that even I can't handle his level of decadence," Theo shook his head. "I told him to meet us at Blakes Below."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a figure moving elegantly toward our table.

"Can I go anywhere in London without one of these twats ruining the landscape?" Pansy asked no one by way of a greeting. I rose from my seat to kiss her cheek.

"That was one of your warmer greetings, Ice Queen. Have you been working on your people skills?"

"My people skills are perfectly apt. It's the people that are the disappointment," Pansy responded disdainfully, turning to Theo.

"Parkinson, you winsome beast, you look particularly happy today. Did your mother die?" Theo placed a gentle kiss on Pansy's proffered cheek.

"Not yet," Pansy sighed, taking a seat at the table. "Mother Dearest will stay alive just long enough to see me married. Sometimes I feel I should just marry the next wanker who pays me attention just to silence her. But really, her rapid descent into mania the longer I remain a verified spinster is a thing of beauty."

Theo raised a hand. "I'll marry you, as long as I don't have to see you naked. Ever. I promise you it would just be for your money."

"Please, Theodore. My breasts are a national monument," Pansy replied, slighted. "Besides, you're so obviously beneath my station. Mother Dearest would never believe it was genuine."

"How very dare you, Parkinson," Theo's head bobbed wildly. "Malfoy here is the one you should be ashamed of. I'm far less polarising."

Pansy agreed. "The Malfoy name just doesn't ring like it used to."

"Are you two done?" I asked as the waiter brought our food to the table.

"Darling, I was done when I saw your sunken chest in Fifth year, Pirate Pete." Pansy poked at my chest before snatching a cucumber from my plate. Theo chortled loudly beside her. "Anyway, I'm going to go. I have far less plebeian things to do today than to lunch with you both." Pansy stood, straightening her blazer. Theo and I both rose politely.

"Theo, darling. Be less weedy," Pansy said, patting his cheek affectionately.

Theo chuckled and kissed the back of her hand. "Be less charming."

She kissed my cheek, whispering in my ear. "Malfoy, I hope you enjoyed the cookies."

_Cookies? _Where had I heard that before? An impish glint lit up Pansy's sharp eyes, a knowing smirk quirking the corner of her mouth.

_How dare you presume that I just hand out the cookie to any man who happens to work for the Ministry!_

My mouth dropped open, and Pansy laughed. "Between you and me, Malfoy," she reassured me, before walking away.

We retook our seats, Theo looking after Pansy's retreating figure affectionately. "That woman will make some lucky man utterly miserable someday."

"If she doesn't eat his head after mating," I said, turning my attention to lunch.

_So Granger told Pansy that we had sex? Interesting._

I was sure that Pansy wouldn't say anything. Under Pansy's hard exterior is a woman fiercely protective of those she loves. It would only hurt Granger, Theo and me if anyone found out. That said, she forgot herself at the benefit after too many champagnes. _This could get messy._

* * *

After lunch, Theo and I made our way back to the office. The crisp Autumn weather and Theo's usual light-hearted banter did wonders for clearing my head, and by the time we returned to the office, I felt more focussed and in control. The rest of the afternoon flew by, a hard-core gym session rounding out my day nicely.

It wasn't until later that evening when I was in the shower that I allowed my mind to run through the events of the day—meeting_ with Shacklebolt, meeting with Granger_. That was as far as I got. The vivid memory of her voice crying out close to my ear as she came had my dick standing straight to attention, hard as though I hadn't jacked off in weeks. I closed my eyes and let my hand slip along my length, my mind running through the bank of material it had collected from my few encounters with Granger. Her moans when I kissed the sweet spot below her ear. The feel of her fingernails digging into my back when my hips hit that perfect angle for her. The way her body gripped me when she came. And fuck me running, that lip-bite that she does. I didn't even realise how close I was to climaxing until I heard my voice ringing out in the shower, my knees buckling slightly as the water washed away my release. My panting breaths felt too loud in the solitude of my shower, and I abruptly shut the water off.

I had to stop thinking about Granger. I couldn't do that to Theo. It was his credibility, his reputation also on the line. He had stood by me throughout the war, my silent but steadfast brother through all the shit. What kind of man would I be if I let a piece of arse get in the way of that? Except I didn't like the way that felt either. Granger wasn't just a _piece of arse, _and even only in my head, she deserved far more respect than that. Granger was the kind of woman any man would be proud to have by his side. I'd had my share of experience, but none of them had ever had the effect on me that Granger had. But I had to be better than I had been. _Take the emotion out of it, analyse the situation and do what is necessary to negotiate a profitable deal._

"Do what you do," I said to my reflection, feeling immediately foolish for giving myself a pep talk. "Dickhead."


	17. Chapter 17: Hermione

**Chapter 17: Hermione**

"Where did Pansy say we were going tonight?" Luna asked, reaching across to pluck an olive from the charcuterie board set out before us on Pansy's bed.

"Blakes Below, have you been there?" I answered. The two of us were sitting in Pansy's bedroom, in a responsibly safe distance from whatever was going on in Pansy's wardrobe. Ginny had arrived at Pansy's townhouse twenty minutes earlier. Pansy had taken one look at Ginny's outfit and hustled her straight into her humongous closet. The drama had been escalating ever since. "Should I go and check what's happening in there?"

"Oh, I'm sure Ginny is alright. Pansy has a way with the Dabberblimps," Luna replied. "They're everywhere this time of year."

"I am not wearing that!" Ginny yelled from behind the door.

"Why ever not? It's chic, Ginevra," came Pansy's reply.

"It's a fucking mosquito net is what it is!"

"Precisely _what _are you objecting to?"

I turned to Luna, who merely shrugged her shoulders. "How're things over at _The Quibbler_?" I asked her. She beamed in response.

"It's going beautifully. Seamus was hiking somewhere near the Swiss-French border and caused a massive explosion at his campsite. The Muggles are trying to claim it as a Big Bang experiment by CERN, but our readers deserve to know the truth."

I pictured Seamus' face, covered in soot and started laughing. Ginny and Pansy were still arguing in the wardrobe.

"I like that one. Should I wear it with a skirt or trousers?"

"It is a dress, Ginevra. I'd reluctantly pair it with knickers. Honestly, are you even trying?"

Luna smiled. "How are you, Mione?"

"I'm good. Work has been crazy busy, but I prefer it that way." I returned her smile. "Not happy unless there's some kind of battle to be won."

"I imagine it is a habit you came upon as a First-year," Luna said. "Probably starting with the mountain troll."

"When there's something strange, in your neighbourhood," I began. "Who are you going to call?"

"Hagrid. Or possibly Neville," came Luna's straight-faced response before a muffled thud drew our attention to the wardrobe again.

"JUMP INTO THEM, GINEVRA!"

"OUCH! Jesus!" More yelling and thuds from the wardrobe followed before Ginny emerged, slightly sweaty and out of breath, wearing an emerald green silk tank top with a pair of tight-fitting black jeans and a pair of strappy black heels. She looked gorgeous, and Luna and I offered a polite round of applause. Pansy gestured to her wardrobe ("Help yourselves," she said) before leading a resigned Ginny into her bathroom to start beauty charming.

"Have you heard from Malfoy at all, Mione?" Luna asked, rising from the bed and disappearing into Pansy's wardrobe.

"Are we talking about Man-Candy Malfoy?" Ginny called.

"Oh, Jesus, we are _not_ calling him that," I cried, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Fine, but we'd be the only ones," Ginny answered. "Have a look at Page 8 of the _Prophet."_

I opened the _Prophet _app on my phone and navigated to the celebrity gossip page. I scrolled through until I found it – an image of Malfoy and me from the benefit last weekend. The accompanying article was a piece from Rita Skeeter (who else) that read: "_Draco Malfoy, together with business partner and friend, Theo Nott, hosted the annual Malfoy Nott charity benefit on Saturday evening. Mr Malfoy was spotted inside the glamourous event with none other than Ministry official, the stunningly pretty Miss Hermione Granger. Is this the Wizarding World's hottest new couple? Does Miss Granger's taste for famous wizards continue? Mr Malfoy was quick to shut down the suggestion. "No, definitely not. I know from experience that Miss Granger has a dangerous right hook. I'm afraid if I get too close to her, she might use it again." So, ladies, it looks like Man-Candy Malfoy is still up for grabs!"_

I threw the phone down on the bed. "Is she serious?"

Pansy scoffed. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Queen of the Quills."

"I do not have a 'taste for famous wizards'! I didn't in Fourth year, and I don't now!" I cried.

Luna popped her head out. "Most of the time, I find it better to leave the acts of vengeance to the Snorkacks. But if you found it in yourself to trap Rita Skeeter in a jar again, Hermione, I wouldn't object."

"Seconded," Ginny piped up. I released a sigh of frustration and reached for a dried apricot from the board. The picture was innocuous enough, no problems there. And Malfoy had dismissed Rita's suggestions that we were romantically involved, which was … _good? _The twist in my stomach was, what? Relief? Disappointment? I was confused.

"Granger, can you not _think _all over my duvet, please? It's expensive." Pansy shook her hands through the curls she'd charmed into Ginny's hair. "Go and get dressed."

I sighed again and dragged myself toward the wardrobe. Luna was wearing a plain black mini dress with a royal blue sequined blazer over the top and black opaque tights. Pansy walked in and nodded her approval. "Wear the black ankle boots," she said, simply. Grabbing said boots from the shelf, Luna left to join Ginny in the bathroom. I could hear them begin to sing along with the music we had playing, loudly and utterly off-key.

I drifted a hand across the racks of clothing, admiring each item.

"And don't think all over my clothes either!" Pansy cried, pulling out a skin-tight black House of CB dress and holding it up under my chin. She eyed me carefully. "I know you're thinking about Malfoy."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop me. "I adore you. You know that. You have _got_ to stop the back and forth. If you want him, have him. If your career is more important, then stop. It's not as complicated as you believe it to be."

Elsewhere, in the bedroom: "ELLA, ELLA, EH, EH, EH. UNDER MY UM-BER-ELLA, ELLA, ELLA -"

Pansy and I shared a giggle for a moment before Pansy became stern again. "The Project is a temporary thing, right? It's only until it's finished that you have to keep him at arm's length. After that, if you still want him, go for it," she said, removing a white silk tunic top from its hanger and grabbing a pair of leather pants. "Until then, surely, it's not beyond the Brains of the Golden Trio to keep it together."

Outside, we could hear Ginny and Luna. "YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!"

"Yass, ladies! You crank that Soulja Boy!" yelled Pansy, as I doubled over laughing.

* * *

We entered Blakes Below just after 9:00 pm. An exclusive venue not yet visible to Muggles, it was known as one of London's best Wizarding bars, attracting an audience of the Wizarding elite. With an Eastern-inspired interior, the intimate space was made up of banquettes and low tables. Our group quickly claimed a corner banquette, a small tray of cocktails floating over to us shortly afterwards.

"Ugh, bloody Gryffindor," Pansy remarked in disgust, sneering at the red-and-gold striped walls. "I want to go somewhere else."

"You picked the place," Ginny reminded her.

"Well, I thought the decorator – _any_ decorator – would've had a more discerning taste. Let me sit in the corner, where I'm not facing the wall." A brief shuffle while we took our seats. "Oh, never mind, I can see it from every angle. Brilliant."

"Here's to our girl, Ginny. Welcome back, beautiful." I raised a glass, my three friends leaning in to clink glasses amid a chorus of cheers.

"Cheers, ladies," Ginny replied, a big smile on her face. I noticed Luna looking around curiously.

"What are you looking for?" I asked her.

"I wonder if the owners know they have an infestation of heliopaths in the air vents?"

"Wonderful!" Ginny answered wryly.

"Heliopaths are not the worst thing to happen to this place. It might distract from the colour scheme." Guess who said that?

I took a sip of my drink; it was delicious. The DJ was rolling out a very cool neo-soul mix, and I found myself grooving along in my seat to _Used to Love U _from John Legend.

"Is Harry still coming tonight, Mione?" Luna asked.

"He said he would stop by; I told him we'd be here after 9."

"Oh, there's Oliver!" Ginny rose from her seat and crossed the room to greet her former Gryffindor Quidditch teammate.

Across from me, Pansy had recovered from the assault on her eyeballs and was casually observing the room. She jutted her chin toward where Ginny now sat with Oliver. "On a scale of one to 10, how keen do you think Wood is?"

Luna and I both turned to look; Ginny was speaking animatedly, and Oliver appeared to be hooked on her every word.

"Nine and three-quarters," Luna answered with a smile. The three of us continued to chat away for some time, Pansy with her usual mix of sass and wit, Luna adding her whimsical spin to the conversation.

Suddenly, a hand landed on my shoulder, and I turned around. Expecting to find Harry but instead meeting the eyes of one Theo Nott.

"Good evening, ladies, what a delight to see you all here." Theo beamed. He moved aside, Blaise Zabini behind him.

Blaise, too, had become a lawyer after Hogwarts. We attended law school together and became quite good friends. Turns out his irreverence for muggle-borns and so-called 'blood traitors' was merely a façade, borne solely from a desire to fit in with his Slytherin housemates. Where my career had taken me to the Ministry, Blaise had earned a position at a private law firm with offices in London and New York, working his way up to associate within a few short years. Last I heard, he had made senior partner and travelled back and forth between offices.

Blaise's mother was notoriously beautiful, and Blaise had inherited her strikingly good looks. With skin like caramel, closely shorn hair and obsidian eyes atop cheekbones like carved marble. Where Malfoy was classically handsome, and Theo devilishly attractive, Blaise was immaculate. He was almost _too _perfect, like a flawlessly rendered drawing. A drawing that Luna was furtively casting a discerning eye over.

_If Theo and Blaise were here …_

_Oh, no._

Dressed in a pair of fitted jeans and a dark cashmere knit so fine that was possibly woven by faeries, was Malfoy. The sleeves of his knit were pulled up; his tattoos on full display. If I thought the bastard looked good in a suit, he does casualwear like he was born for it. I inhaled sharply and became suddenly fascinated by my drink again. Theo took a step toward Pansy.

"Oh, look at that. Did you dress yourself, Theodore?" she asked him, eyeing him up and down and not even trying to disguise her derision.

"You used to be much more sophisticated in your admiration for me, Lady Malevolence. Please tone it down." Theo plopped himself down beside Pansy and extended his arm along the banquette behind her. She rolled her eyes but patted his knee fondly.

Blaise snorted, taking the seat beside Luna and glancing at her appreciatively. Luna appeared to blush a little. I glanced up at Malfoy.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the seat beside me. I nodded, and he sat, a firewhiskey already in hand. He leaned closer to me. "I promise you that I didn't know you would be here."

"It's okay," I murmured with a tight smile. "Despite all previous evidence to the contrary, I can actually be around you without losing my mind."

"It's not your mind you can't keep track of. It's your knickers." A slow grin spread across Malfoy's face, showcasing his perfect teeth. He was close enough that I could smell the woodsy, citrusy scent of his cologne again, and I reluctantly pulled away. He chuckled.

"What brings you ladies out for the evening?" Theo asked.

"Uh, Ginny just got back from the US and wanted a night out so, here we are," I answered. "What about you, lads?"

"Malfoy wanted to see you. He's been stalking you bored," came Theo's response.

Malfoy groaned beside me; Blaise and Luna laughed into their drinks.

"Rather, Blaise just got a new pair of Italian suede loafers and needed a reason to show them off to the small people," Pansy said with a smirk. Blaise raised his drink in her direction and lifted his foot for her inspection. She winked her approval.

"Why don't you ever compliment my shoes?" Theo asked Pansy, who merely patted his head in response.

As a petty argument between Theo, Blaise and Pansy about who possessed the finer footwear ensued, with Luna serving as the unwitting referee, I sat back and quietly observed.

"Are they always like that?" I asked Malfoy.

"I've known all three of them since I could walk. They've legitimately never been any different," Malfoy answered. "I've had to tether Pansy to the ceiling once because Blaise complimented Theo on his penmanship and she lost all reason."

"Wow," was all I could manage.

"Yeah. Slytherin's finest," he remarked, lifting his glass in their direction.

"What have I walked in on?" asked a voice behind me.

"Harry!" I cried, jumping up to hug him. His brilliant green eyes twinkled at me under his glasses, and I tugged him around to the seat beside me.

"Potter!" Theo barked abruptly, causing Harry to jump in alarm.

"What?" he asked warily.

"A gentleman should always wear socks with loafers. Yes or no?"

"Uh…"

"Exactly, Potter!"

Harry turned to me, mouth agape and utterly confused. Malfoy handed him a drink and shook his head. Harry accepted the glass and sipped it quietly. By this time, Ginny had returned to the group, and she sat comfortably beside Harry, the two of them sharing a fond look.

Eventually, Luna ruled the footwear argument in favour of Pansy – ostensibly for the sake of future brunches – and they all rejoined the conversation. Remarkably, the dynamic in the combined group was surprisingly comfortable. Even Malfoy and I were getting along reasonably well, save for the odd barb because who would we be without some venom? Although most of Theo's attention was on a reluctant Harry.

"Who do I have to ask if I wanted to hire an Auror's uniform for the evening?" Theo asked.

"Oh, Jesus," Malfoy murmured beside me, his drink paused halfway to his lips, anticipating the answer.

"I don't think they can just be 'hired', Theo," Harry replied cautiously. "Impersonating an Auror is illegal."

"Fine, fine," Theo said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Say I don't 'hire' it so much as 'borrow it for the evening and then replace it in the morning without knowledge or permission', can I do that?"

Harry blinked. "Well, that's stealing, Theo. Also highly illegal."

"And who would arrest me?"

"I could arrest you now actually, just on intent alone."

"Do it. Do it now," Malfoy pleaded.

Theo grinned. "Well, that's easy to get around. You could simply vouch for my exemplary character as an upstanding member of society. No cumbersome paperwork needed."

"You are not above the law, Theo."

"You forget the goal here, Potter."

"I have no idea what your goal is."

"Matching. Uniforms," Theo responded, emphasising each word with a jab of his clasped hands.

From Blaise: "Pansy, speak to him."

From Pansy: "If he wants to look like a Halloween Posh & Becks, who am I to stop him?"

Malfoy groaned while I stifled a chuckle, rising from my seat. Malfoy immediately stood up beside me.

"Bathroom," I said. Malfoy quirked an eyebrow suggestively. "Alone," I added immediately, patting his shoulder.

* * *

As I stood at the bathroom counter, touching up my makeup, a couple of girls exited the bathroom stall behind me.

"Alreet!" one greeted me brightly, in a thick Geordie accent. She had bright red hair and an exceedingly natural tan.

"Hi," I answered with a smile. "Enjoying your night?"

"Yeah, we're having a mint night! We're here for a friend's hen's party," the other girl answered. She swayed a little as she attempted to touch up her lipstick. "Hey, are you here with Draco Malfoy?"

I stilled, suddenly wary. "Not exactly. I'm just here with my girlfriends, one of whom knows him and his friends well. They kind of crashed the party, so to speak."

The red-haired girl fumbled with her compact, smearing far too much powder around her nose. "I saw your photo in the _Prophet_," she said. "You two look so good together. Did you bang him yet?"

_Subtle._

"Uh, no. I have not," I answered. I didn't know whether to be proud or horrified by the ease of that lie.

"You totally should! I bet he's got a massive bell-end!" cried the other girl, still struggling with her lipstick wand.

_Oh, darling, you have no idea how blessed he is._

"Perhaps," I shrugged non-committally. "But men like that tend to be a massive disappointment."

"Too right."

I heard Malfoy's voice in my head. _Liar._

"Enjoy your night, ladies." I smiled, exiting the bathroom.

I wish I'd seen the beetle in the corner.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! A bit of a fluff chapter to break up the smut. Let me know your thoughts! Stay safe and well.**


	18. Chapter 18: Draco

**Chapter 18: Draco**

The rest of the night was a blast. The She-Weasel (what?) had all but abandoned Potter and spent the majority of the evening preoccupied with Oliver Wood, leaving Potter subject to Theo's wildly escalating narrations. I stood at the bar with Blaise and Pansy; the two of us humoured by Pansy's continual rejection of each man who had approached her.

"You could try to be nicer, Pans," Blaise said to Pansy after she wilfully destroyed the ego of the third man.

"I don't know that she has it in her, Blaise," I replied. "She's always been a b -"

"I urge you to consider the value of your testicles before you finish that sentence," Pansy said calmly, the impassivity of her tone belying the viciousness of her words.

"- beauty." I finished, my hand moving instinctively to protect my crotch. We watched as a fourth man ventured towards us. Pansy fixed him with a glare so deadly, he merely turned the opposite direction without saying a word.

"What was wrong with him?" Blaise exclaimed.

"He was wearing _Joop! Homme_."

From my vantage point at the bar, I had a perfect view of Granger, who had made her way to the intimate dancefloor with Luna. My eyes were glued to her hips as she swayed them in time to Maxwell's _Ascension, _her tight black dress doing magnificent things to her curves. The sultry way she danced reminded me of the confident and easy way she had moved around my bedroom after the benefit. Damn, if she wasn't the sexiest woman I'd ever seen. A quick scan around the room told me that I wasn't her only male admirer, and I was surprised to find that I hated the way that felt.

Blaise nudged me gently. "So, Granger, eh?"

"What? I, uh, no. I mean -" I stammered which prompted a chuckle from Blaise and a scornful eye roll from Pansy. "What about Granger?"

"Oh, he knows," Pansy said, with an impatient look that was more sophisticated than a straight-out verbal _duh._

"You can't keep your eyes off her, mate," Blaise replied. "Fair game though, she's a bloody stunner."

I strived for indifference. "Wouldn't have thought Granger was your type, Blaise."

"She's not. I prefer the quirky type," he said, his eyes drifting hungrily over Luna. Pansy snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"She is a fucking unicorn, Zabini, and I don't know you well enough to decide if you are nearly good enough for her."

"You've known me since we were three years old!"

"So you understand my disinclination then."

I was happy to let them continue to bicker as it afforded me another opportunity to steal another look at Granger. The song had changed; Granger and Luna were now back to back, giggling like a pair of schoolgirls as they danced away to a well-known nineties R&B classic. My fingers itched to touch her, to press my chest to her back and feel the sway of her hips against me.

At that moment, Granger looked up and spotted me, her eyes locked to mine. Neither of us could look away. There was that tangible pull between us, and I was so close to just giving in and crossing the room to take her. To kiss the spot under her ear that I know drives her wild. To just fucking _possess her_.

"I'm going to say the same thing to you as I said to her earlier." Pansy's voice startled me from my fantasy. "Enough of the back and forth," she snapped.

I opened my mouth, but Pansy wasn't done yet. "You think you're the only one with something to lose here?" she asked, her finger raised and her blue eyes flashing. "You've had a rough couple of years, Draco, no doubt about that. But Hermione has lived a lifetime of trying to prove herself to people like you and me. And that's without taking into consideration the fact that she was dealt the crushing misfortune of being born a woman, which means she's had to work twice as hard to be deemed half as good as her male peers. But she's strong, and she's smart, and she deserves every bit of her success. If you pull the rug out from under her for the sake of getting what you want for five minutes, like you always have, so help me, your balls will _never _recover from what I'll curse them with."

My brow creased and I blinked, stunned silent by Pansy's emphatic statement.

"If this gets out, Draco, you could lose a lot. But Hermione stands to lose it all. If you have any sort of respect for her, you'll wait." Pansy's eyes flicked across the room, softening as her gaze landed on Theo. She gestured pointedly with a nod of her head towards him. "If you won't do it for Hermione, do it for Theo."

I looked to Blaise, who merely offered a shrug of his shoulders. "I'm with Pansy on this, my man. Maybe you need to curve this one for now, yeah?" I nodded dejectedly, raising my glass to my lips. Beside me, Pansy rubbed my shoulder awkwardly; her crass attempt at comfort.

"You don't need to do that," I told her.

"Oh, thank God, that felt awful," she replied, dramatically wiping her hand on her tight-fitting leather pants.

I stole one more covert glance at Granger. She was walking over to us, arm in arm with Luna; a pair of giggly, sweaty messes. Granger had never looked better. I thought about what Pansy had said and sighed. She was right, of course. So was Blaise. Hell, even Shacklebolt had given me the official warning. The incredible chemistry with Granger was unexpected, and it was affecting me in a way I was not prepared for. And it wasn't only the sexual aspect of it. It was the intellectual challenge between us that was the real allure. Granger certainly gives as good as she gets, in more ways than one. And we'd discovered it after years apart and without an iota of fondness for each other. Theoretically, shelving it for a few short months wouldn't change a thing.

Before I could give it another thought, we were interrupted by Theo, Potter dragging along behind him.

"Did you know this man wears DIESEL underwear_, _like it's perfectly acceptable?" Theo wailed.

"Oooh," Blaise scowled at Potter, his face screwed up in distaste.

"Really, Potter. Some effort is required if you're going to be Theo's new plaything," Pansy sniffed.

"Who said I was his new plaything?" Potter cried; his eyes wide.

"Oh, Potter, you wound!" Theo clutched at his chest, a terrific show of being in abject pain. "Granger, catch me!"

Granger yelped as she struggled to hold a theatrically falling Theo, the pair of them collapsing in a heap on the floor of the club.

"Please excuse the proletariat. They're not used to having free will," Pansy called to the amused onlookers. "For God sake, make it stop," she hissed at us. Potter bent down to assist Granger, but she was pushed aside by Theo, who made a dramatic grab for Potter's arms. Granger manoeuvred herself to her knees and stared up at me. I offered her my hand, which she took it gratefully. I could feel my mouth hitching up in a smirk before breaking out into a full-on grin.

"Don't say it, Malfoy. I know what you're thinking, _do not say it!" _she cried, though her face split into a dazzling grin as well. I mimed a zipper across my mouth before helping her rise to her feet.

"You alright?" I asked her, to which she nodded.

"I think perhaps I ought to call it a night," she said, looking suddenly weary. She looked around the room and frowned. "Looks like Ginny's gone home already."

"Yeah, she left with Wood about 20 minutes ago. Looked as though Ginny was going to give him a thorough inspection of her quaffle."

"Do not be so obscene!" she yelled, punching my arm. Hard.

"Fucking, _ouch_," I said with a wince, holding my arm.

Theo had his arms wrapped around Potter's shoulders, eyes closed and smiling. Potter was either drunk, exhausted or had just conceded defeat, and was mindlessly rubbing Theo's arm.

"Who's dealing with that?" I asked, looking between Blaise and Pansy.

"Nope," came Pansy's instant response, grabbing Granger's hand and headed toward the exit. Granger looked back at me, helplessly.

"Bye!" she called as Pansy led her away without another word. Blaise stiffened, searching the ceiling for any excuse.

"I rather hoped for an escort home," Luna said, her blonde hair, damp from sweat, falling listlessly against her forehead. "The Moon Frogs are out and about and, really, two heads are better than one where they're concerned."

A visibly relieved Blaise held out his arm to Luna. "M'lady?" The tiny blonde looked even more diminutive next to the towering Blaise, and she smiled as they walked to the exit together. Leaving me with the natural disaster in front of me.

"Alright you two, off we go."

* * *

Late the next morning, with the sun beaming in my windows, I awoke to a text message from Blaise: '_Better read the _Prophet _this morning, my son. Rita Skeeter is back at it,' _it read.

"Oh, what now?" I groaned to myself, opening the _Prophet _app. There it was:

_'Liar, liar, robes on fire! I exclusively interviewed Mr Malfoy last week ("_exclusive interview", my arse) _and I asked him_ _about his surprising new romance with Miss Hermione Granger, a claim that he denied. However, my dear readers, I may have discovered the reason for his emphatic denial – it turns out, whatever skills Mr Malfoy possesses as a wizard and businessman, he apparently lacks in the bedroom!'_

What the FUCK!

The article continues: '_I was speaking to Miss Granger last night at Blakes Below, the hedonistic playground of the Wizarding elite, and she had this to say about Mr Malfoy: "Like most men who are well-equipped, he is a massive disappointment." Harsh words, Miss Granger! However, as we know, my dear readers, Miss Granger has never been one to shy away from a high-profile romance, especially one as eligible as the heir to the Malfoy fortune. True to form, from the looks of this exclusive photograph taken by an unknown patron at Blakes Below, Miss Granger seems like she's about to give Mr Malfoy the chance to redeem himself! Stay tuned, my Propheteers. More Dramione, coming soon!'_

The accompanying photo was taken from a side angle to Granger and I. Snapped while she was still on her knees after her tumble with Theo, Granger and I were pictured grinning at each other, her hand in mine as I was helping her to her feet.

"_Fuck_," I swore under my breath. "Fucking, _fuck_!"

I'd never even seen Rita last night. I hadn't been able to keep my eyes off Granger all night, and I hadn't seen her speaking to anyone outside our group. Except for when she visited the bathroom.

Surely, Granger wouldn't have spoken to Rita in the bathroom. I highly doubted that she'd talk to Rita _at all. _It was no secret that Granger had a deeply contentious relationship with Rita since she published an article, among others, about Potter and his involvement in the Tri-Wizards Tournament, and in it referred to Granger manipulating Potter and Viktor Krum with love potions. Granger's subsequent relationship with Weasley only strengthened Rita's theory that Granger had an eye for famous wizards, and Rita had written a particularly scathing article about their breakup. In it, she painted Granger as desperately power-hungry and blamed Granger's desire to put her career ahead of the Weasel's wish to settle down and have children as the cause of the breakup. Even at the time, I had found the article to be written in fairly poor taste, especially from one single, childless woman about another.

I scrolled to the bottom of the article to view the number of comments: 394 comments already, and the piece had only been live for a couple of hours.

This was bad. This was really bad.

I stood up and crossed my bedroom to stand in front of the window. I scrolled through my emails and found Granger's number. It rang once, twice, before going to voicemail.

I frowned. Two rings. Four rings mean an unanswered call. Two rings mean the call was being screened and had been sent to voicemail. I tried calling again but got the same response. Two rings.

Before I could try again, my phone dinged with a text message: Pansy.

_'Stop calling her, she's upset. I'm here with Ginny and Luna. We're handling it.'_

I let out a frustrated breath. So Granger had seen it and was predictably upset. But at least she had her friends with her which was some small comfort. I hadn't even considered for a second the thought that I should also be deeply offended by my portrayal in the article. Granger had called me a massive disappointment the night of the benefit, but it was a spiteful remark in response to my withholding her knickers from her. Wasn't it? Perhaps that was her motivation for showing up at my office a few days later? The article was getting the better of me, and I dismissed my insecurities as paranoia.

My thoughts turned quickly to Shacklebolt. Had he seen the article? If so, what would he make of it? The article was pretty damning in itself but the photograph? When viewed in the context in which the article was written, it wasn't exactly a stretch to imagine something far more salacious was afoot.

I wanted desperately to speak to Granger but had to trust that she was in good hands.

I let out another roar of frustration and walked into my bathroom for a long, hot shower. But the shower was doing nothing to rid me of the ball of dread that had taken up residence in the pit of my stomach. Even the mix of my favourite tunes, with songs like Radiohead's _High and Dry _and The Killers Mr_ Brightside, _being piped in through my shower speakers wasn't enough to ease the stress.

Stepping out of the shower, I quickly checked my phone: a calendar request and two text messages, one from my mother ('Hello darling. Just wanted to see how you are. I must say, I'd have rather hear about your new relationship from you rather than an article in the _Prophet _but nevermind. Dramione has such a quaint ring to it. When will you bring Miss Granger home for dinner? Your father says hi. Love you darling. Cx'), the other from Theo.

'Do you think the meeting request I just received from Shacklebolt's office has anything to do with Rita Skeeter's article about you and Granger? I think it's a coincidence, but I'm bound to be wrong one day.'

* * *

**A/N: I've spent the past few days reworking these previous 17 chapters. There are no significant plot changes, I just wanted to develop a few of the characters and their relationships a bit better. Please review! Stay safe and well.**


	19. Chapter 19: Hermione

**Chapter 19: Hermione**

Ginny ripped open the drapes in my bedroom, and I immediately squinted against the late morning light that flooded in.

"Up you get, sunshine," she sang. "Get in the shower."

"Don't wanna," I grumbled, my voice muffled into the pillow. I'd been awake for a while but hadn't moved from my bed. Rita Skeeter's piece about Malfoy and I had sapped all of my energy already. I'd spent most of the morning in bed staring at the ceiling, aside from fielding the occasional text message. Luna had read the article first and had immediately rallied Pansy and Ginny to meet at my place. "Just _scourgify _me."

"Hermione, you can get in the shower now, for me who has asked you nicely. Or we can wait for Pansy, whom we both know will be far less cordial about it."

I slowly rose from my bed and stood before Ginny. She gently brushed my unruly hair out of my eyes, and I could feel the tears begin to sting my eyelids.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't let her get to you." Ginny's face softened sympathetically. My face crumpled, and she pulled me in for a hug as the tears fell. "It's okay," she whispered, holding me tight and rubbing her hands across my back comfortingly. "It's okay," she repeated softly. "We'll handle it, okay? It's Rita Skeeter. This is not our first go-around with this cow, is it?"

Rita had published a nasty piece about Ron and me when we first broke up, painting me as the bitch who broke Ron's heart. Thankfully, the whole Weasley family got behind us and had publicly denounced the article. Ginny, in particular, was so supportive throughout the whole ordeal. So much so that here we were again, three years later – Ginny holding me while I cried on her shoulder over a Rita Skeeter piece.

Ginny let me cry for a few more moments before holding me at arm's length. "Come on. You'll feel better after a shower." She smiled at me, gently wiping away the tears on my cheek with her thumb. "The girls will be here soon, and then we'll talk."

* * *

By the time I emerged from the floor of my shower, dressed in sweatpants and an oversize Gryffindor sweatshirt, Pansy and Luna had arrived. Luna leapt up from my bed to wrap me in a warm hug as soon as I entered the room.

"Thank you for being here," I murmured, smiling wearily over her shoulder at Pansy.

"Of course, we'd be here. Where else would we rather be?" Luna replied softly.

"I'm surprised to see Ginevra here first, actually. I thought for sure you'd have morning Wood," Pansy said from where she was perched on the edge of my bed, grinning wickedly at Ginny.

"How do you know I didn't?" Ginny answered with a lewd grin. "Hence the need for a coffee the size of my head." She walked out of the room, high-fiving Pansy on the way past. On the bed beside Pansy, my phone buzzed. She picked it up and held the screen toward me, the caller ID displaying 'Malfoy'.

"I can't talk to him right now," I answered, shaking my head. Pansy nodded silently and ended the call after two rings. Immediately, my phone buzzed again.

"Oh, bloody hell, _go away!"_ Pansy shouted at the phone, sending his call to voicemail again before quickly typing out a text message on her own phone.

"I brought you some muffins and some things to make protein pancakes." Luna grabbed my hand and led me toward the kitchen, where Ginny was making coffee. "You can't think on an empty stomach. It'll fill up with Wrackspurts and then they'll travel to your head."

While Luna started preparing breakfast, and Ginny handed out steaming mugs of coffee, Pansy took a seat on one of the kitchen stools and cleared her throat.

"So, counsellor, what did you say to Rita Skeeter last night?" she said, tucking a dark lock of hair behind her diamond-studded ear.

"I never spoke to Rita last night. I swear, I didn't even see her at all," I replied, sliding into one of the other stools. "I was with you all last night. Did any of you see her?"

"No, I didn't see her, but then I was with Oliver most of the night," Ginny answered. Luna also shook her head.

"I didn't see her either," Pansy confirmed. "Did you speak to anyone else while you were out last night? The bartender, someone on the dancefloor, maybe?"

"There was a couple of girls in the bathroom!" I recalled suddenly. "They weren't local witches; they were from up North."

"Oh, I remember them, there was a group of them celebrating a hen's party," Luna piped up.

"That raucous group where one of them had a sort of winged eyeliner that looked like a prison drawing?" Pansy looked to me for confirmation.

"I wouldn't have put it quite so harshly as that, but yes."

"Well, don't look at me like that. They are witches, such beauty charms exist that can _do_ the makeup _for you_," Pansy sniffed.

"Back to Hermione, please," Ginny said loudly.

"Well, did you say anything to them that they could have gone to Rita with?" Pansy asked, refocussing on the far more pressing issue at hand.

"Well, they asked me if I was there with Malfoy, which I said I wasn't, that he was only with us because he knew you, Pansy." The girls nodded, prompting me to continue.

"One of them said they'd seen the picture of Malfoy and me from the benefit in _The Daily Prophet_ and asked if I'd banged him."

"What a fabulous ice-breaker. I'll have to try that one," Ginny laughed, accepting a plate of protein pancakes from Luna.

"Obviously, I told them that I hadn't," I went on. "The other girl said that she thought he'd have a huge 'bell-end'." At this, Pansy tilted her head, her brow furrowing as she pondered the statement.

"Well, I guess, _comparatively _speaking, it's decent -" she began, contemplatively.

"Moving on!" Ginny shouted, effectively pausing what was sure to be a highly-unproductive comment from Pansy.

"Oh, God," I gasped, my blood chilling when I recalled what came next in the conversation.

"What?" Pansy demanded warily, Ginny and Luna's eyes on me.

"I said that perhaps he did but that he'd probably be a massive disappointment," I blurted out in a rush.

"Brilliant," Ginny replied bluntly, exchanging a glance with Pansy.

Luna simply shrugged. "In my experience, it's not the size of the dog in the fight. It's how many Gulping Plimpies they've eaten first that counts."

"Do you think those girls have sold the story to Rita?" I asked them.

"I don't believe it's necessarily important to know _how _she obtained the story," Pansy replied with a shrug. "Whether she was there in beetle form, or the Toon Twins sold it, either way, Rita's lied her saggy jowls off."

It was true. Unfortunately, journalistic integrity had never been a high priority of Rita Skeeter's, and she had forged an entire career by taking grossly creative liberties with the truth, with little to no ramifications. Most of the time, the battles against Rita Skeeter were won with PR, not by law.

"God knows what Shacklebolt's going to say," I lamented, pushing a pancake around my plate.

"Cross that bridge when you come to it," Ginny replied.

"He's already reminded me once about any romantic involvement with Malfoy, or Theo for that matter, being unethical and totally against Ministry policy. After he sees this article, I might as well have signed my own termination letter," I cried, overcome with guilt and anxiety.

Luna walked around the counter to take my face in her hands.

"Hermione Granger, you listen to me right now," she said firmly, fixing me with a stern gaze. "You are a brilliant witch. The brightest witch of our age, remember? You've done so much good in the world. One bad story written by a famously unreliable source will not change that, and I will not have you doubting yourself. Do you understand me?" For all of Luna's whimsy, she was fiercely commanding when she needed to be. "Rita Skeeter does not get to take down the great Hermione Granger. Not today, not ever. Okay?"

I nodded, feeling the tears prickle my eyes again. Luna kissed my forehead and moved her hands from my face. She quickly hugged the other two witches and proceeded to collect her slouchy bag from the couch. "You'll have to pardon my leaving, ladies," she began, stepping into my fireplace. "I have an article of my own to write." She flashed us a conspiratorial smile before disappearing with a green flash.

"What is she doing?" I asked tearfully.

"What she does best," Pansy answered. "She Quibbles."

On the counter in front of Pansy, my phone buzzed loudly. I reached for it, but she snatched it away from me before I could grab it.

"Pansy!" I protested.

"You cannot be trusted with this right now," she argued.

"Agreed," Ginny piped up.

Despite my protestations, I relented, slumping down on the stool. Pansy looked down at the screen, her face falling. She looked at me uneasily, before handing the phone to Ginny. Ginny's mouth twisted sympathetically, both witches turning to look at me.

"What?" I asked dreadfully.

Pansy warily handed me the phone. On the screen was a notification for a meeting request from Shacklebolt.

"There it is then. When is the meeting scheduled for?" I pushed my plate away.

"Um, this afternoon, at 2:00 pm," Pansy answered.

I rose from my seat and began pacing.

"Mione, it's going to be okay," Ginny said, trying to reassure me.

"How could this possibly be okay?" I asked, pressing my hands to my face in despair. "He's called an emergency meeting! As if I'm not going to be fired!"

"You don't know that, Granger," Pansy insisted.

"Shacklebolt is like a father figure to you. He probably wants your side of the story before he goes after Rita," Ginny added.

"Why doesn't he just call me then? Why bring me into the office?"

"I don't know, babe," Ginny sighed resignedly.

"God, I've fucked everything!" I wailed.

"Granger, you have _got _to pull yourself together," Pansy replied, her tone suddenly authoritative. "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of lawyer?"

"Yes," I sniffled meekly.

"And isn't the first rule of lawyering, 'innocent until proven guilty'?" she demanded.

"Yes, but -"

"No buts. Yes, you've slept with Malfoy, which is inappropriate under the circumstances, but Rita Skeeter's article doesn't prove anything. Whether the bitch heard it first-hand or through Chinese Whispers, the fact is, she's trying to present an off-hand comment as a statement of fact with no proof. You did not confirm a sexual relationship with Malfoy to anyone last night, and the photo doesn't prove anything either."

I considered her statement for a minute. "You know, you're absolutely right."

"It's only lawyering, it's not that difficult," she sniffed. "Now, for the love of Salazar, take this -" she handed me a garment bag I hadn't noticed before, "- and please go and fix … _that_." Pansy gestured vaguely to my outfit before pointing me dismissively toward my bedroom.

I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Thank you," I whispered, pulling back to look at her. She winked at me and patted my hand. "What would I do without you girls?" I called out as I made my way into my bedroom.

"Read and never have any sex?" Ginny called out in response.

"Actually, Malfoy is the reason she's having sex, Ginevra. Not us. We can hardly claim responsibility for that. Nor do I wish to."

"True. How many books about sex do you think she's read?"

"Yes."

I chuckled to myself, listening to their playful banter in the kitchen, even if it was at my expense. In the garment bag was a beautiful black and white tweed sheath dress, and an elegant Chanel pearl brooch. I took my time dressing, pairing the outfit with simple black pumps. My hair was still damp from the shower, so I tamed it into a sleek low bun, and applied a swipe of red lipstick. I strolled back out to the kitchen, feeling far better and more confident than I had not thirty minutes earlier.

"Oh, thank God. If I had to look at that Gryffindor shirt for another second, I was going to _expulso_ my own eyeballs," Pansy remarked.

"Dramatic much, Parkinson?" Ginny scoffed with a raised eyebrow. "You look great, Mione."

I curtsied playfully in response and then checked the clock. It was almost two. I stepped toward the fireplace before turning to face my girlfriends.

"Wish me luck!" I said nervously.

"Good luck," they chorused and I felt the rush of wind as I was transported through the Floo to land softly at the Ministry.

* * *

I exhaled anxiously, replaying Pansy's words and trying to build up my courage as I walked toward Shacklebolt's office suite. Entering the anteroom to Shacklebolt's office, I stopped short at the sight of Malfoy and Theo. And _Harry._

"You know, the lengths you will go to just to run into me are becoming comically far-fetched and not a little bit inconvenient, Granger," Theo remarked, deploying his trademark impish grin. "Though I must say, planting stories about a false romance with his Lordship here just to distract the gossip rags is an ingenious move."

"'Give the people what they want', isn't that the usual showbiz trope?" I answered with a forced laugh, still reeling from Harry's unexpected presence. _Shit, this could be worse than I imagined. _

"Eventually I will only break your heart though, Granger. You must know you are not my type."

"I know, Theo. Much as it pains me, but the tears will eventually dry," I deadpanned.

"What exactly is your type?" asked Malfoy. "Because if it's still Cheryl Cole, you need to realign your ambitions with your reality, and adjust your standards significantly, resolutely, _down_."

"Firstly, how extremely dare you, I am and always will be an unparalleled joy to behold. Secondly, my type is obviously P-" Theo was interrupted by Shacklebolt's magically amplified voice booming from behind from his office door, my stomach to begin turning somersaults upon itself again.

"Gentlemen, Miss Granger, come in please."


	20. Chapter 20: Draco

**Chapter 20: Draco**

At the sound of Shacklebolt's voice, I heard Granger's sharp intake of breath. _She's nervous, _I thought to myself. I reached out a hand to grasp her elbow reassuringly but dropped it when she instinctively flinched. I could feel Theo peer at us curiously, but he said nothing as he pushed open the heavy oak door into Shacklebolt's office.

* * *

Before arriving at the office, Theo had been at my place. He stepped languidly out of the fireplace, slurping some kind of iced, caffeinated monstrosity through a straw.

"Love what you've done with the place," he drawled, looking lazily around the living room.

"Nothing's changed since you were here last," I answered from where I sat in the kitchen, sipping coffee.

"Did you decorate the place in dark greys because it's the only colour scheme where your complexion is not completely washed out?"

"You know you're starting to sound like Pansy?"

"One can only dream," Theo replied, gracefully taking a seat in one of my armchairs. "So, let's talk about Granger!"

I walked around the island counter to join him in the living room, picking up my coffee as I went.

"Well, the photo is complete bollocks, first of all. She was only on the ground because you knocked her over -"

"I was _falling_," Theo reminded me indignantly.

"- and then you made Potter pick _you _up instead of her."

"Isn't it heartening to know that chivalry is not yet dead?"

"Yes, well, my act of chivalry has been papped and posted in the _Prophet._"

"Twenty points to Slytherin for His Lordship's stunning alliteration," Theo remarked, lifting his plastic cup. "And what about the article? Any truth in that?"

"Am I massive disappointment in bed?" I asked him snappily. "I don't know, Theodore. I haven't exactly surveyed any of the girls I've ever slept with."

"Well, I Floo'd Pansy before I got here -"

"Of course you did."

"- and she neither confirmed nor denied the statement, only to say that she finds most men to be frightfully lacking in all facets of life. Then she told me to burn my cardigan because seeing that and being in the same room as Granger's sweatshirt was enough horror for one morning. God, she is magnificent."

I said nothing and just rubbed my face. _These are my friends. _

"But before we front up to Shacklebolt's this afternoon," Theo continued, his tone suddenly serious. "Tell me if Granger knows whether you're a horrifically boring shag or not?"

I looked at my best mate, his eyes staring solemnly back at me. I looked away, shaking my head.

"No mate, she wouldn't know. It's never gone further than that kiss."

Fuck, I hated lying to him, and I felt like the slimiest git alive. But I just couldn't burden him with this secret. If I was going to go down for this, I wanted to give him at least the benefit of plausible deniability.

Jesus, what kind of a prick was I? To justify lying to my best mate and brother by trying to convince myself that it was for his own good?

Theo was still staring at me, "I really hope you're not lying to me, Draco."

He didn't often use my given name, preferring instead to use some other loving epithet, like 'Lordship', 'twat', or 'dickhead'. The use of it now only served to make me feel worse. But I'd committed to the lie now; I couldn't go back. I made a silent vow that as soon as the Project was over, I'd tell him everything. The risk of him being pissed off at me for a while was worth saving his reputation and protecting his investment. Wasn't it?

He looked unconvinced but, like at lunch last week, he let it go. "'_Dramione'_," Theo scoffed, looking at the article on his phone. "Such an uncreative portmanteau. And the woman calls herself a journalist?"

I chuckled, draining the last of my coffee.

"So what do you think Shacklebolt is going to say? Do you think he'll boot us off the Project?" Theo asked, tucking his phone back into the pocket of his jeans.

"I don't think he would, not when we're investing millions into it, and this is just another of Rita Skeeter's bullshit pieces with no basis."

"No basis," Theo repeated. He cast another sceptical gaze my way but said nothing more.

"Anyway, I guess we'll find out in about thirty minutes," I said, rising from my seat and aiming myself toward the hallway.

"Yes, for the love of all that is magical, put on a shirt. You're scaring the pigeons." Theo's usual rat-baggery had returned, and I flipped him off before entering the hallway toward my bedroom.

* * *

I entered Shacklebolt's office last, holding the door open for Granger. There was a small seating area in Shacklebolt's office, with a plush leather couch and three large armchairs. To Theo's credit, he managed to read the room perfectly for once, and sprawled himself out on one half of the couch, allowing Granger and Potter to claim the armchairs for themselves. I settled myself on the sofa beside Theo.

Minister Shacklebolt placed himself elegantly into the other armchair and regarded us keenly, his hands clasped in front of him.

"So, Rita Skeeter has written another article," he began simply. We nodded in assent. "Now, I am not foolish enough to believe that what Rita Skeeter has written is based on facts and hard evidence. She's never been one to let the truth get in the way of a good story." I could see Granger's shoulders relax.

"However," he said, and Granger stiffened again. "Perception is everything, and this is an exceptionally high profile project. So when the Ministry's head legal advisor is photographed on her knees before one of our primary investors, it doesn't look good for us."

"I understand, sir, I apologise," Granger spoke softly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Perhaps an explanation is needed before an apology, Miss Granger," Shacklebolt replied gently. "Mr Nott, would you care to elaborate?"

Theo snapped to attention. "Sir?"

Shacklebolt's dark eyes twinkled, and with a wave of his wand, cast a projection of the photograph on his office wall behind him. "Yes, Mr Nott. Unless I'm mistaken, this appears to be you in the background of the photograph with Auror Potter?"

_That explains Potter's presence today. _Upon closer inspection, I had failed to notice the first time I looked at the image, was that Theo was indeed in the background of the photo, clinging to Potter like a limpet.

"You are young. It's perfectly reasonable to go out and overindulge once in a while. But there is no disputing the fact that each of you is a well-known, public figure. There is a heightened level of attention any time you appear in public." Shacklebolt dismissed the image from his office wall before continuing. "Consider the optics of this situation: two senior Ministry officials enjoy a night of drunken debauchery with the project investors?"

"I was there, it's perhaps a stretch to say that Potter was _enjoying_ himself," I pointed out. Potter ambivalently shrugged his shoulders.

"The point is, Mr Malfoy, that you pushed for your firm to be the sole investor for this project, and now when an image like this comes out, the secondary investors whose bids were refused start making noise about the perceived conflict of interest."

Granger shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I was afraid of this," she murmured.

"Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy have previously been briefed individually on the Ministry's policy against personal relationships between co-workers, and for this project, they are indeed, co-workers. As is Mr Nott," Shacklebolt said. "Now, Mr Potter, you have no personal involvement with the Project. But your close association with Miss Granger has been highly publicised for years. As such, a relationship with anyone close to the Project also invites a certain level of scrutiny. Therefore, I am subjecting you to the same directive."

Potter swallowed hard. "Yes, sir." He waited until Shacklebolt had turned his attention to steal a furtive glance in Theo's direction, who was staring steadfastly ahead, his jaw clenched and his mouth set in a firm line.

"Now Miss Granger, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you made no such comment about Mr Malfoy's, shall we say, _deficiencies_?" At this, Granger had to work hard to keep her expression neutral, as did Shacklebolt. Potter stifled a laugh. Theo did neither, tipping back his head to release a single, barking laugh.

"Miss Skeeter will be ordered to remove her piece and to issue a public apology, to Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy for the defamatory and humiliating comments."

"Isn't it defamatory only if it's untrue? My sources thus far have been deplorably non-committal -" Theo was abruptly silenced, the subtle flick of Granger's wand beside her thigh the only indication of what had occurred.

"Well played, Miss Granger," Shacklebolt nodded approvingly. "Has there been any further development of the additional plans as I discussed with you both last week?"

"Um, no, sir. I was hoping Mr Malfoy may be free on Monday to begin a draft plan?" Granger looked to me for confirmation.

"Yeah, Monday works for me. Just set it up with Sara."

"Good. Now I trust that each of you is clear on my expectations going forward?" Shacklebolt asked. We chorused our understanding, except Theo, who could only nod. "Very well. Thank you for coming in on short notice. You may go."

* * *

Once out of the Minister's office, Theo continued to rant silently, hands gesturing erratically.

"Is this the charming side of Nott that I keep hearing about?" Potter asked, pointing at Theo.

"Yes. His finest moment was when Pansy stunned him and kept him in the corner of her living room. She said he was like a surrealist houseplant," I recalled, laughing inwardly at the memory.

We watched on in amusement as Theo's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, his face steadily growing redder the longer he remained in his forced silence. When it appeared as though Theo was about to collapse in a fit, Granger released the charm.

"- highly unnecessary, Granger!" he squawked, his complexion slowly returning to normal.

"Aw," I whined with the inflection of a child.

"And I was not a houseplant. I was a hatstand."

"Is that better?" Potter asked.

"Obviously," Theo answered, though it was not obvious at all.

"I have a sudden craving for a pint." Potter aimed himself toward the door, stalking out of the room.

"I should go with him, lest he suddenly flail and _Expelliarmus _an unsuspecting passer-by," Theo said.

Granger snorted. "It's happened before."

After Theo departed to chase after Potter, I turned to face Granger. Her huge golden-brown eyes peeked up at me, looking utterly drained. I had to fight to resist the urge to stroke her cheek, to comfort her. _What the hell was happening here? _When had I changed from wanting to strangle Granger to wanting to be the one to soothe her when she was hurting? She held my gaze, and damn if she didn't look as conflicted as I felt. I didn't want to be the one to look away first but Pansy's words from last night suddenly clanged loudly in my head.

_If you have any sort of respect for her, you'll wait. If you won't do it for her, do it for Theo._

I blinked rapidly and glanced down at the floor. Granger cleared her throat.

"Monday?"

"Monday," I confirmed, and then she was gone.

* * *

_**A/N: Apologies to the followers of this story for the annoying update notifications over the past few days, I appreciate your patience and for sticking with me and the story.**_

_**I have also curated a Pinterest board to go along with the story so please feel free to check it out. It's jam-packed with unpopular opinions! ( / w w w **** . pinterest . com . au /UnexpectedFlamingo/unexpectedflamingo-clash/ )**_

_**Much love as always, stay safe and well!**_


	21. Chapter 21: Hermione

**Chapter 21: Hermione**

Rita Skeeter's article had been removed by Saturday evening, and I read her apology while I ate my breakfast on Sunday morning.

_'My dear readers, I promised you more Dramione coming soon, and it pains me that it is in the form of this: my public apology. _

_My recent article about the fledgling relationship between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy contained mistruths and misquotes from an unreliable source. I am deeply repentant for the humiliation that my words may have caused these two wonderful young people. _

_Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy have been rightfully heralded individually for their extraordinary accomplishments over the years. But consider for the moment their decidedly different backgrounds: Miss Granger, the Muggle-born daughter of middle-class dentists – I am told that this is a type of tooth healer, how positively decent! – and the young aristocrat, Mr Malfoy, a reformed Death Eater and the sole heir of the renowned Malfoy estate. _

_If a relationship does exist between them (and my beloved Propheteers, this remains unconfirmed!), one can only marvel at the hurdles, challenges and prejudices they must have faced before being accepted as a couple! They should be lifted into the light and held there, don't you agree, my faithful readers? I am profoundly, unequivocally sorry for the public condemnation or shame that I may have contributed to, and I, like my cherished readers, continue to hold out hope that one day, we may see Dramione come to light!_

What a heartfelt apology.

Sure, the words 'sorry' and 'repentant' were used, but they were squeezed in between the liberal sprinklings of Rita's usual conjecture and snobbish nonsense, but I'd expected as much. As Ginny had previously pointed out, this was not my first rodeo with Rita, and it was unlikely to be the last.

My phone buzzed with a text message; it was Harry. _'Just saw Rita's article. You must be overwhelmed by such a sincere apology. Hope you're alright :)_

I chuckled and typed out a brief reply, and then set my phone down. All I could think about was the utter clusterfuck I had found myself in. Shacklebolt, my boss and father figure, and the most powerful man in the Wizarding Britain had told me under no circumstances was I permitted to have a relationship with Malfoy while we were on the Project – an endeavour with an undetermined end date due to the additional plans he had charged us with developing. Logically, I understood the expectations.

But whatever it was that I felt for Malfoy was not cerebral. It was visceral, and it confused the hell out of me. I didn't want to want him. I was never the one to be ruled by my emotions. That was Harry's job.

I had spent so much time recently reminding myself of why I resented Malfoy, only to get caught up in that chemistry between us that I couldn't explain. Even when I could stay away from him, like the other night at the bar, I'd be so desperate for relief from the tension that I'd touch myself, thinking of him and feeling completely dissatisfied because it wasn't my hands that I wanted to feel.

After yesterday's meeting, the look in Malfoy's eyes was so tormented and conflicted. I was sure he was feeling the same way I was, which felt even worse. If I were alone in this, maybe the feeling would go away. There was undeniably something there that neither of us wanted to admit to. I had wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull him to me, immediately hating myself for forgetting so quickly everything that Shacklebolt had said to us not five minutes earlier.

Try as I might, I simply couldn't bring myself to despise Malfoy anymore. The time I had spent with him allowed me to see him in a different light and I realised that our motivations in life weren't so dissimilar - our passion and our ambitions were both driven by a need to prove ourselves. His arrogance was still an ever-present, intrinsically Malfoy trait, but in many ways, it was well-justified and I no longer begrudged him for it. From the other night at the bar, I learned that he was also fun to be around, quick-witted and possessed a wicked sense of humour.

But my job was still important to me and gave me a sense of value. Being part of the Project meant being able to contribute in a way that mattered. My honesty and integrity were still paramount. I couldn't have all of those things and still be involved with Malfoy.

I didn't feel like I could talk to any of my friends about it either. Luna's advice on the topic had been pretty sound: _will you respect yourself in the morning? _Ginny wasn't an option - she was still my ex-boyfriend's sister, and I didn't want to make her feel awkward. Harry? Hard no. Plus, it seemed that there was more to his relationship with Theo than he was letting on, and he perhaps needed the space to work through that. Normally, I would talk to Pansy about this kind of dilemma, but she'd told me in no uncertain terms to keep my distance. And in this instance, she wasn't just my friend; she was Malfoy's, too.

As Sunday evening drew to a close, I was reaching my breaking point. I needed to do something drastic, or I'd drive myself insane. I took a deep breath and picked up my phone.

* * *

At 3:00 pm the next day, Malfoy sauntered into my office. My pulse jumped at the sight of him, dressed in an immaculately tailored black Tom Ford suit, and I recognised his silver tie as the one he had worn the previous week. I forcibly swallowed when I recalled the memory of it wrapped around my hand as he fucked me. _Not helping. _My throat went dry, and I reached for my glass of water. Malfoy smirked knowingly. It would be just like the bastard to have worn that tie on purpose.

"You okay over there, Granger?"

"I'm fine," I replied curtly. _Liar_. My black silk knickers were feeling the effects of the Pavlovian response I was having to the tie.

"Clearly."

_Focus. _I cleared my throat and wiped my palms on my dark green skirt. I reached into my briefcase, which was deceptively slim for the size of the file I retrieved.

"The fuck was that, Granger?" Malfoy stared at me, confused.

"What?"

"Your briefcase. It looked empty. There is no way that whole file was in there." Malfoy looked stunned until it dawned on him. "Expansion charms are still illegal, I believe, counsellor."

"They are. Which is a shame because I could teach you how to use it on your dick," I smiled sweetly at him.

_Ooh, bitchy, Miss Granger._

Malfoy smirked, the tip of his tongue running across his teeth as his brain searched for an equally biting comeback. _Good luck finding one. _

"I don't know what Shacklebolt specifically discussed with you, but he wants to develop your idea about using magic to expedite the mass production of vaccinations safely," I pressed on.

Malfoy glanced at me, his brow furrowing.

"Right," he said slowly. "Go on."

I started rifling through the sheaf of papers in the file. "Here are the contacts at St Mungo's Infections Department, and Shacklebolt will give you the names from the Department of Disease Control and the Faculty of Public Health in London. You will need to assemble a research team -"

Malfoy raised a hand, cutting me off. "'We' need to assemble a research team."

I looked at him, pleadingly. _Don't make this harder._

He leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee and folding his hands in front of him. "You said that _I _need to assemble a research team for _my _idea. This is a joint venture, Granger."

I waved, striving to appear nonchalant. "Semantics. Now, I'd like you to -"

"It's not semantics. Where is your input into this? It was _our _idea that Shacklebolt liked," Malfoy said. "What is going on?"

"I don't have the necessary expertise."

"You're the legal advisor. You have all the necessary expertise that you would need for your part in this," Malfoy insisted. "Besides, your lack of expertise wasn't a problem until now."

"_You_ weren't a problem until now," I blurted out before I could stop myself. I glanced up at Malfoy. I saw the moment realisation begin to dawn on him.

"What have you done?" he said quietly.

I shrank slightly into the leather chair. I quickly regained my composure and lifted my chin at him haughtily.

"I cannot work with someone who cannot respect the boundaries of a professional working relationship."

"Oh, sod off, Granger," he scoffed. "Don't insult us both by giving me a piss weak excuse like that."

"Fine. _You_ shouldn't be forced to work with someone who cannot respect the boundaries of a professional working environment."

"You can't bluff me, Granger. I'm an excellent poker player."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"What have you done?" he repeated, firmer than before.

"Malfoy -" I started.

"_Enough bullshit, Granger!" _he yelled suddenly, his voice hoarse with unnamed emotion. I could feel tears prick at the back of my eyelids, and I blinked rapidly.

"I'm leaving the Project," I whispered, my eyes trained on something outside my office window.

"Why?" he demanded.

The tears were rallying hard against my resolve, and I sniffed. I refused to look at him.

"It's for the best," I replied meekly.

"It's for the best…" he repeated, trailing off disbelievingly. "I know that growing up with Potter and the Weasel means that you're used to being the brains of the operation. But I'm not a fucking idiot so don't treat me like one."

I finally looked at him. "Excuse me?" I asked with an affronted scoff. He glared at me, his nostrils flaring in barely stifled anger.

"Your boss put you in charge of this project for a reason, and now you're bailing on it? And you don't even have the nerve to be fucking honest about it?" Malfoy was furious, and I felt a tear slip. I quickly looked out the window again and wiped the tear away, hoping he didn't notice. He noticed.

"Tears won't get you out of having to explain yourself to me, Granger. I'm not that pathetic."

I glared at him. "I don't have to explain a fucking thing to you!" I spat.

"We're partners in this project, Granger. You absolutely have to explain yourself to me."

My heart grew heavy as I relayed my conversation with Shacklebolt last night. I had told him that I thought the publicity that surrounded Malfoy and I would detract from all of the good work the Project was trying to achieve and that the Project was too important to be overshadowed like that. I had even recommended that Blaise Zabini should take over as independent legal counsel.

Shacklebolt had resisted strongly. He didn't want me to worry about the publicity. He had even suggested that if it was too much of an issue, that we could remove Malfoy Nott as the investors, which I had vehemently protested against, arguing that it was good optics that they were involved. Shacklebolt eventually realised that there was no changing my mind and had unwillingly relented.

When I finished, Malfoy shook his head. "This is bullshit," he said.

"I'm telling you the truth," I protested.

"Maybe, but your excuse is bullshit."

"It is not!" I argued. I wasn't ready to tell him the real reason; I didn't know if I ever would be. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at me and stared intently. I felt a strange sensation in my head but ignored it. His eyes blazed, and this time when he spoke, his voice was almost menacingly low.

"You and I both know that there's more to it than this."

"No, there's not -"

"There _is," _he interrupted. "And I want to hear you say it."

I stared across my desk at him. His expression remained hardened, and his eyes were unyielding. Despite myself, I felt that pull, crackling in the air between us. It was too much, and something in me snapped. I snatched my wand from where it lay on my desk and whipped it around to cast a _muffliato_.

"Don't you get it, Malfoy?" I cried, losing my cool. "Isn't it fucking obvious? I can't be around you anymore! I cannot be near you and not be allowed to touch you! Every time you're near me, I can't think straight, and when you're not near me, I can't think about anything but you! It's just too fucking hard, and I can't do it anymore!"

The silence in my office was deafening. Without realising, I had risen from my seat and was leaning on my desk, palms flat against the glass surface. My chest heaved, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. Malfoy's eyes were like white fire, but he stayed frozen in place.

I released another deep breath and straightened, turning away from him. His silence was excruciating, and I stared out the window, waiting for him to respond. To get up and leave. _To do something. _The seconds that ticked by felt like years, and I idly ran my fingers across my lips. Just when I was about to open my mouth to say something, _anything_, just to break the agonising silence, he spoke.

"I don't know what the hell this is, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I felt the same way."

I squeezed my eyes shut against a fresh onslaught of tears. _I knew I wasn't alone in this. _I felt that odd sensation in my mind again.

"No, you're not alone in this," Malfoy said. My eyes flew to his face, and my mouth dropped open. A storm was gathering in his eyes again, and I realised what he had done.

"Stay out of my head," I warned. I wanted to reach across my desk and slap him, and then drag his lips to mine. "I don't know what else you want me to say," I whispered, my gaze dropping to my lap. My cards were out on the table. _Where do we go from here?_

"Tell me why you walked away from the Project."

"I already told you -"

"You said it was because you have feelings for me, but that's not the whole of it," Malfoy said. "Did you walk away from the Project so you could be with me, or just to avoid me?

"As long as you're involved with a Ministry project, you're subject to the 'no fraternization' policy. Me walking away doesn't change that."

"A real answer please, Granger."

I sighed heavily. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do," he argued. "The truth, Granger, or I'll just break into your head again."

"Don't," I demanded. "That's not fair."

"I don't play the odds, Granger. I play the man."

"You told me once that you'd never push me to do anything I didn't want to do. Using legilimens is the same thing," I argued.

"Fair play," he answered. "But I won't ask you again. Tell me the truth."

"Do you want me to say that I choose you, Malfoy? Is that it?" I asked drily. "Would it suit your overinflated ego to think that I fell on my sword for you? God knows you like to win big."

His face darkened with a scowl, and his hands were white-knuckled where he clasped them together on his lap in poorly suppressed anger.

"The truth is, Shacklebolt even suggested replacing you as the investor if it meant I wouldn't leave -"

"He fucking _what?_" Malfoy cut in. I held up a hand to stop him.

"I refused. He didn't want to anyway, I could tell. I said that you and Theo were too important to the success of the Project to replace you, which he agreed."

Malfoy looked thoughtful.

"So how does the truth feel, Malfoy?" I replied tauntingly. "Hmm? How does it feel to know that I walked away, and you keep the biggest, most important venture you have ever had? Your saving grace was the filthy little mudblood -"

Malfoy was around my desk and had me pinned to the wall before I could even think. It wasn't until I heard the clatter of his wand falling to the wooden floor that I even registered the opacity charm he had cast on my glass-panelled office wall. With one hand spread low on my hip, Malfoy gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger with the other, forcing me to look in his eyes.

"Don't you _ever_ call yourself that again, do you hear me?" he growled. "_Ever._"

I could barely hear him from the rushing of blood in my ears. His scent was overpowering my will, and I was melting under his hands. My hands gripped the lapels of his jacket like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to my sanity.

"Malfoy, please," I begged, but I wasn't sure what I was begging for. Did I want to feel his lips on mine, or did I want him to back off? I didn't know what felt worse - his proximity or the thought of pushing him away. His steely grey eyes darted frantically across my face as if he was trying to catalogue the minutiae of it.

"Tell me what you want, Granger," he whispered, his voice a low rumble in his throat. "I promise I'll give it to you." My mind flashed back to when he'd said those words to me in his office last week (shit, had it only been a few weeks since this started?). Same words, completely different context. And so much more implicit.

"I want you…" I breathed, but he seemed to catch my hesitation. He dropped his hand from where he still grasped my chin and took a small step back, my hands falling from his lapels. The distance immediately chilled me, and for a moment, I wanted to pull him closer again. But the space allowed my rationale to seep back in.

"My job and my values are important to me," I said softly. "I can't have those things and still be involved with you."

Malfoy still looked tormented, but he nodded. "I get it."

"It kills me to leave the Project, but it is for the best. If it means that the Project can go ahead without any disruptions from us, then I accept it," I continued. "And I know what it means to you as well. It's not right if you and Theo were the ones made to walk away from it."

"Thanks," he said, with a small smile. "So, what now?"

I sighed. "Everything is in that file. I need to finish some notes for Blaise but once I have received the accepted engagement letter from him, I'll Owl the file to him. And then that's it."

"That's it," he repeated. The air between us sparked and filled the space our silence created. I could feel my resolve weakening again. Malfoy's eyes darkened, and he took a step toward me.

"Except that's not it, is it, Granger?" he teased, his hand reaching out for my hip again. "Not by a long shot."

His woodsy, citrusy scent enveloped me, and that familiar warmth flooded me to settle low between my legs again.

"If you don't want me, Granger, that's okay. I'll back off, and you won't hear from me again. But maybe…?" his voice trailed off as he leaned in and pressed his lips to that sweet spot below my ear.

"Maybe just one more time," I moaned, reaching for his belt. Malfoy gripped my hand to stop me.

"If I only get to have you one more time, Granger, I'm not wasting it with another quickie against an office wall." He pulled away from me slightly, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket. He unlocked his phone and pressed it into my hand, the way he did at the benefit. Despite the torrent of feelings I was experiencing at that moment, I smiled and bit down on my lip. "Same drill. Give me your address, and I'll come to you tonight."

I did want him just one more time. If only to provide some sense of closure on _whatever the hell this was. _I quickly typed in my address and handed the phone back to him. He slid it back into his pocket, before bending to collect his wand from the floor at our feet. He quickly pressed a kiss to my lips.

"See you tonight," he murmured against my mouth before kissing me again. He sauntered casually out of my office, flicking his wand to dispel the charm on the glass panels as he went.

I flopped myself down in my chair and placed my elbows on my desk, my forehead resting in my hands. I still had a few hours of work left, and in particular, I needed to finalise my handover notes to Blaise. I steadied my breath and turned my music app on. Miike Snow, _Paddling Out. _Perfect. I rolled up the sleeves of my dark green shirt and got to work. I tried not to think about what was coming tonight until a text alert dinged from my phone. My stomach flipped when I read the brief message:

_8:00 pm - DM_


	22. Chapter 22: Draco

**Chapter 22: Draco**

I had no idea what I expected tonight to hold for Granger and me. There was a sense of finality about it, but then my gut refused to believe that this would be my last chance to have her.

I left the office at about 6:00 pm, then proceeded to clock watch, the seconds ticking by agonisingly slow until 8:00 pm when I finally Floo'd my way into her apartment. She was nowhere in sight when I arrived, so I took the opportunity to check out Granger's inner sanctum.

Her living room was warmly lit by a few lamps scattered around the room, small Diptyque candles filling the air with a warm, fragrance of roses. The room was furnished and decorated in soft neutrals; a cream fur rug strewn over the wooden floor. The fireplace I entered through was white, the mantel topped with a small vase of hydrangeas and some photographs. She had music playing softly in the background, and I peered closer at a photo of Granger with an attractive older couple. _These must be her parents._ Her apartment was stylish yet comfortable, exactly what I would expect from Granger.

I turned around when I heard the sound of Granger's soft footsteps padding into the room. She was barefoot and wearing all black – a laced-trimmed silk camisole and shorts set, with a matching floor-length robe.

"Hi," she breathed.

"Hey," I responded, as my eyes drifted hungrily over her. I'd seen business Granger, with her seemingly inexhaustible range of high-end corporate outfits. I'd seen black-tie Granger, dripping in couture and diamonds. But this loungewear, casual Granger, with her dark curls tumbling down her back, and her lips free of the lipstick she was wearing earlier? This was by far and away my favourite - she was breathtaking.

She was holding two tumblers of amber liquid, and she spared me a shy smile as she handed a glass to me. "It's firewhiskey. I hope it's okay." Her voice shook a little, and it occurred to me that she was nervous.

"Perfect," I answered. I reached out to stroke her jaw, hoping she would catch the double meaning in my response. She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch for a moment. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at me, those enormous golden-brown orbs of hers taking in each of my features before coming to rest on my mouth. Her hand drifted up and she skimmed her thumb across my lips. I pursed my lips and pressed a kiss against her thumb, earning me a sweet smile in return.

"I couldn't concentrate on work after you left," she admitted. "I kept thinking about tonight. And now that you're here, I'm not sure what to do with you."

"I have some thoughts," I replied, and she laughed melodically. I found myself grinning at her girlish giggle.

I didn't know what I felt for Granger anymore. From day one at Hogwarts, she had challenged the very fabric of my beliefs, even though I didn't realise it at the time. I had been so sure of myself, raised to believe in some arbitrary superiority, and never needing anyone's approval except my father's. My only shred of self-doubt came after my father threw me to the wolves in my Sixth year at Hogwarts. After witnessing the husk of a man my father became under the Dark Lord's influence, I swore to myself that I would never seek anyone's approval again. This had worked well until Granger re-entered my orbit and up-ended everything I knew about myself. Suddenly, everything I did, I did it to impress her. I recalled the recent conversation I'd had with my mother after she'd seen the Rita Skeeter article.

* * *

I had apparated to the Manor and found my mother reading in her favourite room in the house – the sitting room. Two walls were taken up by floor-to-ceiling windows that flooded the room with sunlight and offered a stunning view of the gardens. She ordered tea from the house-elves (who, thanks to the persistence of Granger-by-proxy-of-Pansy, were no longer working for free) and gestured for me to take a seat.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, my beloved son? As if I don't already know." Mum smiled knowingly, gently stirring her tea.

"You saw the article. What did you think of it?" I asked.

"Darling, it's not the first time you've been on _Page 8_ with a girl on your arm. At least this woman I respect."

I was surprised. I had expected Mum to be resistant to the very idea of my being involved with the Muggle-born Granger, and I told her so. Mum waved me off.

"That woman was tortured in _my_ house by _my_ sister, and I stood by and did nothing to stop it. Neither did you. Sweetheart, we owe Miss Granger an apology for existing. Not the other way around."

The memory of Granger's screams echoing through the Manor still haunted me. The fact that Granger knew I was in the room when it happened and could even give me the time of day now was a testament to her character and strength. I felt that all too familiar mix of awe and guilt flood my system at the thought.

"Can I tell you something, Draco?" Mum asked. "I'm not at all surprised that you've developed feelings for someone like Miss Granger."

"Who said anything about me having feelings for Granger?" I cried, looking around the room and throwing my hands up melodramatically.

"The mild conniption you just had speaks volumes, dear."

I fell silent, tucking my hands under my thighs to keep them still. Mum smiled, taking a sip of her tea.

"Do you know why our marriage has lasted for so long, your father and I? Aside from love, it's respect," Mum stated. "Your father is a strong man, like all Malfoy men. Every day, he puts on his armour and goes to battle with the world. Some of the battles, he brought on himself, and he hasn't always worn his armour well. But he can be strong because when no one else is around, I challenge him."

I frowned. _Didn't do him much good when Voldemort was around, _I wanted to say.

"I know what you're thinking, Draco. What about the Dark Lord? Where was I then?" Mum remarked, smirking meaningfully. "I won't lie to you and say that things didn't get ugly between your father and me at times. I shielded you from all of that because I promised that no matter what, I would always give you a solid foundation. I swore an oath to myself that I would never let you see the cracks. Your foundation would stay as solid as it always had been, so you knew you could always come home."

I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight with emotion, and Mum's eyes glistened as she continued. "What you and the rest of the world don't see is that privately, I have always been unyieldingly honest with him and held him to account for his actions, and he values me and _respects _me for it. There's a lot of truth to the saying that behind every good man is a better woman."

I rolled my eyes at this and Mum chuckled.

"It got hard for a few years, but it got better," she said, smiling wistfully. "Your father has always wanted to be better for me. Your father can be strong because I'm stronger than he is."

I nodded. I looked closely at my mother. Her perfectly coiffed hair was now totally platinum blonde and was lined with delicate silver streaks. Her beautiful face carried on it the wisdom and heartache of the years, but her ice-blue eyes still shone with youth. So poised and composed, she was almost regal, and I thought back to every moment I'd been in my mother's presence during the War. I had never realised until that moment that she had been unfailing and unwavering in her support of my father and me. Calm and courageous when my father was breaking, and I wondered how bad it could've been if not for her. I had a newfound respect for my mother at that moment.

"You're a Malfoy, Draco." Mum's voice broke my reverie. "You won't fall for the girl who lets you get away with everything. You will fall for the woman who sets fire to your world and holds you accountable. You'll fall for the one who makes you want to be better."

Amid my turbulent thought process, it occurred to me: Granger was the only one who had challenged me for the better. I'd had brief relationships in the past, but I grew bored with them. Sure, they had played their part as the dutiful girlfriend in public well, but they were content to be satisfied with my money or my last name and were uninterested in me as a person. Granger simply held up a gigantic mirror and forced me to confront what I thought I knew about myself, and I strived to be better. _For her._

Is that what this was? Was I falling for Granger?

* * *

My mind travelled back to the present, and the beautiful witch in front of me. Granger put her glass to her lips and took a small sip of firewhiskey. The action reminded me of being with her at my apartment after the benefit, my cock tingling at the memory. The Summer Walker & Drake song in the background faded, transitioning to Joe & Donnie Emerson's_ Baby. _I stepped closer to Granger, and wordlessly vanished the glasses from our hands.

"I was enjoying that!" she protested. "You have no idea what kind of week I've had."

"It's Monday."

"And your point is?"

I chuckled and grasped the front of her long silk robe to pull her close. I pressed my lips to hers and relished in the subtle flavour of cinnamon. Firewhiskey has been a favourite of mine ever since my friends and I would sneak nips of it from the decanter in my father's study in Fifth year. But for me, the flavour of the spicy liquor would now forever be firmly associated with Granger.

"Malfoy?" she murmured against my mouth. "Should we talk before we get too carried away?"

"I honestly couldn't be less interested in anything you have to say right now, Granger," I replied, my hand moving to slip the robe from her shoulder, and I moved my mouth to kiss her tanned skin. A breathy laugh escaped her lips, and her hands reached up into my hair. I kissed a path along her clavicle to the dip of her throat, falling to my knees before her to press a kiss between her breasts through the thin silk of her camisole.

Granger's hands dug into my hair, pulling slightly. _God, that felt good. _She tugged at my hair to tilt my head back, and she leaned down to kiss me deeply. Our tongues found their rhythms easily and performed their usual dance, slipping and gliding over one another. I slid my hands around her waist and pulled her down to the floor with me, bracing her thighs on either side of my hips, so she was straddling me.

A soft moan slipped from Granger's lips as my erection brushed against her crotch, and she melted against my chest. She kissed and nipped her way across my jaw to my chest, her delicate fingers unbuttoning my shirt, kissing every inch of skin she exposed. Her eyes met mine when she reached my belt; her intentions made perfectly clear. She deftly undid the belt buckle and the button of my trousers, and I raised my hips to help her push my trousers and underwear further down my hips.

My head fell back against the cream rug, moaning when her soft pink tongue slipped out to gently sweep across the head of my cock. She repeated, twice, three times before taking the whole of my length into her mouth. I would've died a happy, happy man at that moment. The view alone was enough to send me over the edge – on her knees with her perfect black-silk-wrapped arse in the air, her silky dark curls brushing against my thighs.

Granger moaned, sending a vibration along my dick that buzzed in my spine. She bobbed her mouth up and down, her teeth scraping lightly along my shaft and her tongue swirling. Her hand slipped lower to my balls, rolling them gently in her palm. She moved her finger lower again to gently massage a spot below, a low hiss emanating between my teeth. The sensations were almost too much but fuck if I wanted her to stop.

I ran my fingers across her jaw, and then through her hair. She looked up at me through dark lashes, pausing for a moment to grin wickedly at me before placing me back in her mouth, her nervousness apparently forgotten. She began running her hand up and down my dick in tandem with her mouth, twisting and bringing me ever closer to the edge.

Fuck, it was too good, and I wasn't done with her yet. Not like this. I ran my hand along her jaw again and sat up. Granger daintily wiped at the corner of her mouth, looking rather fucking pleased with herself.

I reached for her hips and pulled her up to straddle me again. Her tongue invaded my mouth again, her lips swollen from the attention she had just lavished on my cock. I slipped my hand lower and pushed into her silk shorts. She was already wet and ready for me, and I felt my cock harden even further. I brushed my fingers across her clit, and I dipped one inside her, relishing in the pleading moan from Granger's throat. She pulled back to look at me, her eyes like lava.

"Oh, shit," she breathed, her head lolling back. My free arm snaked around her middle to hold her firm, and I added a second finger inside her. Her hips rolled against me, and I bent my head to lick at her nipple through her camisole. Granger pushed my shirt from my shoulders, throwing it to the side before discarding her robe. Her arms wrapped around my neck and shoulders, her hands threading into my hair again. Her nipple was firm and taut under my tongue, and I leaned back slightly to look at her. Her skin glowed in the warm light from the fireplace, her beautiful dark hair tumbling down her back. She was so unassumingly sexy and more than beautiful. She was fucking perfect.

The movement of her hips jerked, and I removed my hand from her shorts to hold myself up for her. She reached down to hold the crotch of her shorts aside and lowered herself onto me. We'd never been in this position before, and her body fit perfectly with mine. Her forehead fell to my shoulder, and I grabbed her hips.

"God, you feel so fucking good, Malfoy," she breathed. "You feel how deep you are?"

My response was muffled against her chest, lost to the rotations of her hips.

"You want it faster?" she asked me, between the tiny sucking kisses she left along my neck.

"Fuck no, you stay exactly where you are," I replied with a quiet chuckle, sinking my fingertips into her hips.

"Oh, fuck yes, mark me," she groaned. I responded by biting down on her right breast, relishing in the way she pulled harder on my hair. She began to work me harder now, filthy utterances from her mouth punctuating each swivel of her hips. Telling me in dulcet, breathy tones how much she loved the feeling of me inside her, how much she craved what I was doing to her. I could feel the pressure building, my beautiful witch writhing above me. I bucked up into her, feeling her grind down harder on me.

"Oh, God, _Draco," _she moaned, and I felt her spasming around me. I was not prepared for what it would do to me to hear my name falling from her lips, and I followed her orgasm into my own. I groaned loudly against her chest.

Granger went limp above me, and I lowered us both to the floor. I eased myself out of her gently and laid her back where she had collapsed against my chest. We were sweaty and panting and exhausted, and I realised with a satisfied smile that the night was far from over.

* * *

_**A/N: Thank you for the reviews so far! Please PM your thoughts on the Pinterest board. The idea behind the boards was not to provide the exact likenesses of the characters, especially with Theo, Pansy and Blaise, but more just the qualities they embody. For example, in my head, Pansy doesn't really look like Mila Kunis nor Kate Beckinsale but she carries herself with the sass and fierceness of Mila and the poshness and dry humour of Kate.**_

_**On another note, this chapter was pure smut and I'll warn you that the next chapter is no different.**_

_**Stay safe and well! Xx **_


	23. Chapter 23: Hermione

**Chapter 23: Hermione**

I laid on his chest, spreading my hand wide to feel the heat of him under my palm while his fingers drifted lazily up and down my spine. I could feel his heartbeat under my cheek, gradually returning to its normal pace. I trailed my hand down his torso, my hand coming into contact with the waistband of his trousers. I glanced down. His dark trousers were unbuckled and were slung low on his hips. He had readjusted his underwear, but I could glimpse where his waning erection slightly strained at the fabric of his black Calvin's. I was still fully dressed, having only discarded my robe. I grinned in amusement - we were in the comfort of my own home and had the luxury of having all night, but apparently, we were still too impatient with each other to even take our clothes off.

Eventually, Draco's fingers stopped moving, and I wondered if the warmth and the crackle of the fireplace had lulled him to sleep.

_Draco_.

I recalled saying his name and realised that I'd never called him anything but 'Malfoy' before, and I stiffened. Immediately, Draco's fingers began moving again, his other hand curling gently around my arm.

"If that brain of yours can actually _think _after what we just did, I need to try harder," he murmured, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "What are you freaking out about?"

"Who said I'm freaking out?" I propped my chin upon his chest, peering up at him. He lifted his head from the floor and gave me a cynical look.

"You don't have to be a _legilimens _to know what's going on in your head, Granger. I can hear you thinking."

I swatted at his arm and pushed myself up off his chest, taking a moment just to look at him. Yes, I'd seen him naked before but I'd not taken the time to just _look _at him. He must've spent some time outdoors over the years because he wasn't quite as pale as he had been at school. It was obvious even under the bespoke suits that he worked out, but he wasn't overly muscular, just nicely defined. His chest was covered in an ultra-fine smattering of hair, marred only the slash of a silver scar. _Sectumsempra, _I recalled uneasily. My eyes continued their path over Draco's body to his happy trail, the neat line of hair leading down to the most magnificently hung man I'd ever encountered. His hands moved to run up and down my thighs, and I watched transfixed on the alluring flex of his strong, tanned forearms, and his long, elegant fingers.

"See something you like, Granger?" Draco asked, his voice still somewhat hoarse.

"Are you even fucking _real?" _I blurted out indelicately, my hands traversing the dips and planes of his abs. I shifted slightly to let my fingers trace the 'V' shaped muscles of his lower abs, and I felt his cock twitch under me. I gasped when he sat up suddenly, flipping me on my back and hovering over me.

"I am very, _very _real. Do I need to put my mouth on you again to prove it?" A rhetorical question as he had already started trailing kisses down my chest and over my stomach. He peeled my shorts from me and tossed them to the side with his shirt and my silk robe. He settled himself between my thighs and bent his head to blow a stream of cool air across my clit. The chill on my still-heated flesh was exhilarating, and my hips jerked involuntarily. Draco looped his arms under my thighs and spread his hands across my hips to hold me steady. I let out a desperate moan when he lowered his mouth to me, his tongue like velvet against my clit. I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as this exquisite man ravished me in the most intimate way. His eyes met mine, an unnamed emotion flashing behind the cool grey, and suddenly I felt more exposed and vulnerable than ever before.

Draco's hand ventured from my hip, and he slowly worked his finger inside me. Another helpless moan escaped my mouth, my head tipping back as the sensations overtook me. This wasn't the first time Draco had done this to me before but, in that moment, it felt so much different, like there was a weight to it. A _meaning. _I could feel the release building between my thighs, but I wasn't ready to let myself go.

"Wait -" I whispered, reaching down to grasp his wrist. He placed a kiss against my inner thigh before standing up and offering his hand. I put my hand in his, and he pulled me up, lifting me gracefully and wrapping my legs around his waist. He kissed me deeply; my taste mingling with his in a heady mix.

"Bedroom?" he asked against my mouth. I broke off the kiss and gestured toward the hallway. He carried me effortlessly down the hall and into my bedroom, flinging me onto my bed. Draco straddled my hips, reaching down to pull my camisole off. A look that on anyone else would be called adoration passed over his face as he brushed his fingers over my naked torso.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Hermione," he breathed. His voice caressed my name like a prayer, my heart surging in my chest. It set something off in me that felt just beyond my reach, but in the moment, it felt right to hear him say my name.

I reached up to grasp his face, desperate to feel his kiss. Draco's thumb softly stroked my jaw, leaning down to gently cover my lips with his. My palms roamed across his shoulders, relishing in the flex of them under my hands. I travelled further down his back to his arse and ran them down his powerful thighs. The notion that even if only for tonight, this beautiful man was _mine _ignited a new fire in me, and I suddenly craved more of him. I reached for the waistband of his trousers and attempted to shove them unceremoniously past his hips. Draco's hand immediately moved to grasp my wrist, gently pausing me.

"Oh no, baby. I'm taking my time this round," he murmured in a dulcet growl. He placed a kiss on the corner of my mouth. "We have all night. No rushing, no hiding. I want to remember everything about how you look." Kiss. "How you taste." Another kiss. "And how you feel. So I'm going to make an imprint of every. Inch. Of. Your. Body." He punctuated each word with a kiss on my chin, down my neck, and back to my lips. "With my hands. And with my mouth." He kissed me pointedly. "Say something, so I know you've heard me."

I couldn't actually form words, so I offered a meek whimper in response.

"Christ, you're stunned silent. I should've done this years ago," he teased. Despite being more turned-on than I could ever recall feeling, I managed to glare at him. Draco grinned wickedly and winked at me. He sat back on his haunches and shifted to settle between my legs. He lifted my leg to his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the inner arch of my foot. He traced the place his lips just left with the wide edge of his thumbnail. The gentle scrape felt amazing, and I bit my lip, my hands curling into my duvet. Draco watched my lips, a low rumble coming from deep in his throat and his eyes blazed. He ran his hand down my calf, massaging lightly. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss to the inside of my knee. I jerked involuntarily, my inner knees unexpectedly ticklish. He grinned again, and this time bit me lightly on the same sensitive spot.

"Do you like feeling my teeth?" Draco's voice was smooth, but his breath was jagged. "Do you think about where else you want me to bite you?" He moved his fingers very deliberately along my inner thigh, stopping before he reached where I wanted his touch the most, and retracing their path back up toward my knee. I hated and loved how he made my body feel. I could feel the heat emanating from between my legs, my intense need for him growing with every passing moment.

Draco kissed and nipped his way across the plane of my hips and over my stomach. My stomach muscles flexed under his touch, savouring the rough scrape of his stubble against my skin. His lips travelled up toward my breasts. He sucked a small bruise into the underside of my breast, then rolled my nipple into his mouth. Every touch was an incendiary spark under my skin. He gently pressed a kiss to my inner elbow, his lips gliding down my forearm. I held my breath when he reached my scar. He faltered for only a moment, his eyes flickering up to meet mine in a penitent gaze. I ran the fingers of my free hand through his hair before caressing his cheek gently. He moved on to my wrist, my palm, then pressed a delicate kiss to each of my fingertips.

Draco gently rolled me over to lay on my stomach, and he reached out for a pillow for me to tuck under my head and chest, running his fingers through my hair once I was comfortable. The gesture was unexpectedly sweet, and I almost wished for him to say something jerky just to remind me who we were to each other. I felt Draco shift off the bed, and I watched him in awe as he dropped his trousers and underwear to the floor.

_Fuck me running_.

He was hard again, my mouth and eyes almost watering at the sight of his cock.

Draco caught me staring and gave his dick a brief stroke that was purely for my benefit, before coming to straddle me once again. I could feel his dick resting against my arse as he leaned forward to press a kiss between my shoulder blades. His mouth worked down in a teasing continuation of light kisses and tiny nips, his chest sliding down my back. Draco's hands and lips worked in tandem to ravish the skin of my hips and lower back. I inhaled sharply when I felt him run his fingers down the line of my backside, and I felt myself stiffen.

_I don't know about this. _

Draco seemed to sense my uneasiness. "I won't do anything you're not comfortable with, I promise you," he soothed, his fingers continuing their path to slip lower. He teased at my pussy from behind, his index and middle fingers gliding on either side of my clit. I whimpered again and arched my hips, desperate for contact where I needed it most.

"Christ, you're so fucking wet," he breathed. "You ready for me?"

"Fuck yes, please," I pleaded. Draco shifted behind me, and I felt him brush the tip of his cock against my entrance. "_Please_," I begged again and released a frustrated groan when I felt him move away from me.

"I like you begging. Do it again."

"Please. Please stop talking and just fuck me," I growled at him from over my shoulder. Draco was sitting back on his haunches again, his hand moving in languid strokes over his dick.

"My girl has a filthy mouth," Draco drawled, a wicked gleam in his silver eyes. "Up on your elbows," he demanded, and I complied. He reached for my hips and pulled them back before placing a loud smack on my arse. I yelped, but the unexpected contact was like pouring kerosene on the fire in my belly. The swift bite of his hand was in stark contrast to his earlier tender touches as he worshipped my skin and my body, but I loved this commanding side to Draco.

"God, Draco, I'm losing my mind." He positioned himself behind me; his hand braced on my lower back as he used his other hand to guide himself into me. "Oh, _shit_." I moaned loudly as he _finally _pushed deep inside me. Draco released a groan of his own and began to move in and out. He found his rhythm, and I closed my eyes, lost to everything but this. The ragged sounds of our breathing, his hands as they gripped my hips. Each thrust was hitting that sweet spot every time, and I surrendered myself to the sensation.

"Look at me," he breathed, but I couldn't open my eyes. The pressure coiled between my legs was building, and I felt my dampness travelling down my inner thighs. Draco's hand reached into my hair, and he tilted my head back. "_Look _at me, Granger," he repeated with a growl. His return to using my last name now should have infuriated me, but it only served to turn me on more. I forced my eyes open, looking back at him. His eyes were white-hot, his jaw set. The tendons in his neck pulled tight. I had never been so in tune with someone like this, my body reacting instinctively to Draco's every look and touch. I pushed my hips back harder against him, feeling my climax drawing nearer. I was _so close._

The words kept falling from my mouth, all the things I was feeling, pleading with him, over and over. He slowed his punishing rhythm for a moment, leaning forward to trap my lips in a kiss. With his chest pressed to my back, he began curling his hips against me, the slight change in angle causing me to cry out in bliss. He reached down to grab my hand, lacing our fingers together. He moved our hands to my clit, both of us stroking together. He spread my fingers on either side of where he was gliding in and out of me.

"Do you feel that? Feel how good you feel around me?" he whispered. I cried out incoherently in response, his hand moving from my clit to my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. "I want to feel you come all over me."

"Harder," I pleaded in response to the light pinch he delivered to my nipple, my voice tight. He pinched down harder, and it was all I needed. My orgasm spiralled out of control, my body clenching around him harder than I ever had before. I threw my head back against his shoulder, a strangled cry ripping from my throat.

"Fuck, that was hot," he growled in my ear. He flipped me over onto my back, thrusting into me relentlessly and taking what he needed from me. "Fuck, I can't … I can't stop."

"Take it all, Malfoy," I cried, the aftershocks of my orgasm subsiding but I was still overwhelmed by the feel of him. I couldn't get enough of it. His hands curled into mine above my head.

"Not that," he demanded, his voice gravelly. "Say it."

I knew what he wanted. It had the same effect on me.

"Come for me, Draco," I whispered.

* * *

_**A/N: Thanks for the messages regarding my Pinterest board. Special mention to ElizColl for the fantastic feedback as well. Stay safe and well!**_


	24. Chapter 24: Draco

**Chapter 24: Draco**

_"Come for me, Draco."_

Nothing in the world felt as good as she did in that moment, and I let go. The wave built up and crashed wildly over me, and I spilled my release into her. My forehead had come to rest between her shoulder blades, her hand gripping my forearm where I had it wrapped tightly around her waist. I eased out of her and lay on my side next to her. My muscles ached, and our breaths were still coming out hard. Hermione's beautiful face was turned to mine, the glow from her orgasm settling into a rosy blush on her cheeks. We laid in satisfied stillness for what felt like ages.

I was first to break the silence. "I think we should probably talk now."

"Oh, don't even try to think until the blood flows back to your brain from your dick. You'll end up with vertigo." Granger grinned at me impishly, her face still half-buried in her pillow.

"Let me guess. You read that somewhere?"

"Yes, I did." She stretched her over-worked muscles while I stood to retrieve my underwear from the floor. I slid them on then while she watched.

"You know, I find you much easier to get along with, knowing that for all of your faults, at least you have that glorious dick."

I laughed. "I feel the same way. You're still a hellish nightmare, but you have a nice rig to make up for it."

This felt familiar. This was us. Something was changing between us, and we were inching ever closer to needing to discuss what it meant, so this return to a verbal slinging match felt strangely comforting.

Hermione sat up, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "We do need to talk though, don't we?" she said quietly.

"Yeah, we do," I answered. She rose languidly from the bed and gestured to what was ostensibly her bathroom door.

"Don't fuck around with the shower. The water temp is perfectly charmed _for me_," she said and walked out of her bedroom, affording me a splendid view of her arse as she went.

_I'll never get tired of that sight._

* * *

After being scalded by her perversely hot shower, I re-joined Granger in the living room. She was sitting on the couch, her black silk robe wrapped around her. I was only half-dressed, and she threw my shirt to me as I approached.

"There's no way I can think straight when you're shirtless," she said.

"If you're going to objectify me, Granger, at least be subtle about it."

"I think we're well past subtleties, don't you think, Malfoy?" We were back to last names, but she seemed more comfortable with it. I shrugged my shirt on but left it unbuttoned. I took a seat beside her, leaning my head back and gazing at nothing.

"Do you always have music playing?" I asked her, noting with curiosity her choice of Stevie Wonder song. _I don't know why I love you, but I love you._

"Pretty much. Music grounds me," she answered. "It keeps -"

"Keeps you focused?" I interrupted, turning my head to smile at her. "Yeah, me too."

Granger smiled back at me. "Did you know that Stevie Wonder is a wizard?" she asked.

"Really?"

"Yeah. That's why he wears dark sunglasses all the time. Muggles think it's because he's blind, but really, he holds so much magic in his eyes that he has to wear the glasses to hide it."

"Right. So 'Stevie Wonder' isn't a stage name?"

"No, it's his real name. Stevland Hardaway Judkins, and later Morris, is his Muggle name."

"Wow, that's pretty cool," I answered, impressed. She smiled shyly and picked up a glass of water from the coffee table. She took a sip and replaced the glass, and picked up a small cushion, fidgeting with the edging. _She's nervous again._

"Sickle for your thoughts, Granger?"

She laughed a breathy sound. "Only a sickle for _my _thoughts? Please, they're worth galleons."

"Okay, smart-arse, start small. What do you want?"

Granger eyed me cynically. "That's not exactly small, Malfoy." She groaned, a strained sound of frustration, and she used her fingers to gather her long hair into a ponytail before letting it tumble down again. "This is all just very unexpected."

"If this can't go any further than tonight, then just put it all out there. There's no reason to leave it unsaid."

She nodded, looking down at the cushion in her lap. "When Shacklebolt told me that we'd be working together on the Project, I thought that our history would make it difficult. You hated me and everyone like me. I hated you and everything you stood for. But then I saw you, and something was just _there…_" she trailed off, her fingers beginning to worry the edge of the cushion again. "All my life, I've been known as the 'brains'. Even in the war. Harry was the guts, Ron was the heart, and I was the brains. And that's fine, I'm proud of it. God knows there are far worse things to be known for."

_Yeah, like being a Death Eater._

"But it's been really fucking lonely at times," Granger said quietly, still staring intently at the cushion. "In the end, that's why Ron and I broke up."

"So it wasn't your flagrant disregard for traditional marital values then?"

Granger snorted. "Rita Skeeter would make more sense if she talked out of her arse. It had nothing to do with me not wanting to get married and have kids. The issue with Ron and I was that we were together for so long that it just was too easy in the end."

"And that's … bad?" I asked, trying to hide my amusement.

"Yeah, it is. There was no fire between us. We just existed. The only thing he was ever passionate about was bloody Quidditch."

"You can't blame a man for that, Granger." I immediately wanted to hex myself for agreeing with the Weasel.

She finally looked up at me. "Do you know that I actually broke the toilet-seat charm on purpose, just so I had a reason to start picking fights with him?"

"That is completely mental."

"I know!" she cried, flinging her hands in the air. "I just needed _something _from him! But Ron was always so content just to _be__. _I needed more than that, but I didn't know what it was. Ron just never stimulated me."

"Oh, God. Please, never, ever say that again."

"You know what I mean!" she said, flinging the cushion at me. "It's not like I didn't try either. I tried just to be as well. But I'm not built like that. I realise now that I need a spark, a current. I need meaningful, intellectual conversations now and then. And forgive me for also needing a bloody good shag occasionally!"

"You are not only forgiven but actively encouraged," I responded with a grin. Granger chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

"I was bored to tears with Ron in the end, which sounds so horrible because he has such a good heart. But that's why it ended." She was fidgeting with another of her cushions again. "After I broke up with Ron, I just threw myself into my job. I started getting bigger cases which provided the challenge I was craving, and eventually, I became Department Head. I have been so content with that. Until you came along."

She glanced at me, her expression becoming more serious.

"I'm an honest person, and I always do the right thing. I value my career. I have worked so hard to earn the respect that I have with my peers. But with you? It's like you've taken everything I thought about my career and myself and said, 'these are all well and good, but I'm offering everything else you never knew you needed.' It's so hard to control myself around you."

I knew what she meant. I was a man who prided himself on being steady and measured and collected. But just one whiff of her roses and rain scent and my reason was gone. Being close to her the night at Blakes Below was the best kind of torture. More than just the brains and the beauty, Granger was also fun-loving, surprisingly funny, and utterly charming. Sure, she had a smart mouth and could cut you with her words, but she was compassionate and protective of the people she cared about.

"This isn't even just about me and how I view myself. I'm thinking about Shacklebolt and what he would think of me. He's always supported me. I refuse to look him in the eye and lie to him anymore. He's been too good to me, and he deserves better than that."

Now, this I could understand even more. If there was one quality that I valued above all others, it was loyalty.

"I get it, and I actually respect you more for it," I told her. "I never wanted to admit it, but I've always admired you."

Granger gasped in mock horror. "What will your father say when he hears about this?"

"Cute," I replied sardonically. "You were the only one at school who was perhaps that little bit better than me at everything."

"Not everything," she cut in. "I'm no good on a broom."

"Okay, so I'm better at flying. Thank you for giving me that one thing, Granger," I said, and she giggled. "I hated it when I was younger, for having to compete with a Muggle-born, and then resenting myself further for being impressed by one."

Granger said nothing and just nodded.

"I know now how stupid and cruel I was. I don't think I have ever apologised to you properly." I broke off and turned my body toward her, grasping her hand and commanding her full attention. "Hermione, I am so, so sorry for everything I have ever said and done to hurt you. I'm so sorry."

Her eyes glistened instantly, and she bit her lip. "It's okay," Granger whispered, her voice shaky. "I know you weren't given a choice, and it's not who you are now. You hurt me, but you never broke me, so I forgive you. I think I forgave you a long time ago."

My mind was blown, and I found myself completely humbled by her once again. Granger cleared her throat and blinked away her unshed tears, but I didn't let go of her hand.

"Where to from here?" I asked her.

"I don't know. We never saw one another before the Project. Is it realistic to think that we could just go back to that?"

"Is that what you want?"

Granger sighed. "No, it's not what I want." She looked at me, solemnly. "I know what I feel for you. I don't know if I can just shove it in a box and hide it away like that."

I squeezed her hand, catching the subtext in her words. "So what are you suggesting?"

"Something entirely unfair," Granger said with a small chuckle, and she glanced at me uneasily. "Wait for me?"

The blood rushed in my ears, and I inhaled sharply. Granger saw my reaction, and hurriedly continued. "I know it's totally unfair. But there is something here, right? This is something?"

I nodded numbly.

"It's only been, like, a month? And we really don't know much about each other. We can't be together while you're still with the Project, and God only knows how long that will take to finish up. I only heard Shacklebolt mention the other day about expanding into other fields in the Muggle World …" Granger's free hand was gesticulating wildly, and she was rambling fast. _This is classic anxious Granger._

"Slow down," I said quietly, and she paused. She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly.

"What I'm saying is, maybe we just put this on hold, rather than ending it completely. Is it reasonable to suggest that we just go about our lives, see other people and pretend like this never happened, until you're done with the Project?"

"Jesus, Granger," I replied sullenly. "That could be a year or more."

"I know," she murmured, her eyes downcast.

"And you want us to see other people in the meantime?"

"Yeah?" Granger replied hesitantly.

"And how do you see that working?" I pressed. I could feel my heart thudding in my chest. "What if you meet someone and fall in love with them? What do I do then? 'Sorry, Malfoy, shit happens'?" I pictured Granger in the arms of someone else, my jaw clenching at the thought.

"I don't know. I'm just trying to figure this out," she whispered.

"I've told you before. I don't share." I released her hand and ran my fingers through my hair. I was beginning to lose my cool, and it unnerved me. "This is bullshit," I mumbled, standing up. I took a few steps around her living room. In my anguish, I even tried _occlumency _tactics to curb my growing agitation, but it was futile.

"_Fuck!_" I yelled suddenly, unable to keep in my frustrations. In my peripheral vision, I could see Granger jump a little. I turned to face her. Her feet delicately tucked beneath her; the light from the lamp beside her reflected in her eyes as she stared at me pleadingly. My beautiful witch.

_She's not _my _beautiful witch, _I had to remind myself.

"You could fall in love with someone too, Malfoy. What would happen to me?" Granger reasoned.

"That wouldn't happen," I responded quickly.

"It might," she insisted.

"I'm telling you, it wouldn't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm falling for _you_, Granger!" I yelled despondently. Her eyes went wide with shock, and my chest seized. "I'm falling for you."

Saying the words out loud, I realised that this is precisely what I had been feeling. It physically hurt to say it now, knowing what she was asking of me. I sank into a nearby armchair, my elbows propped up on my knees. The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire and the rich voice of Jacob Banks. I chuckled inwardly at the fucking cruel timing of his lyrics.

_I know I've done wrong, I've paid for it. It's your turn to talk, for once I'm listening._

Granger was staring at me. She was no longer fidgeting; she was completely still.

_Forgetting how it started, this is how it ends._

My cards were out on the table. It was up to her now.

_Say that you don't want me. Say that you don't need me. Tell me I'm the fool._

"Malfoy -" she whispered. Of course, this is how it would go. The one who had always pushed me to be a better version of myself, in one way or another, had been right in front of me this whole time, and I never saw it. Now that she was here, I had to let her go.

I couldn't stomach the thought of being with anyone else now. Imagining Granger with another man turned my blood to ice. I didn't want her to wait for me either. She said it before. She couldn't _just be. _She would go mad sitting on a shelf waiting for the timing to be right. More than that, it felt disrespectful to expect her to wait. As much as it would kill me, I knew I needed to say what came next.

"If I can't have all of you now, we call it, and it ends tonight. Don't wait for me." My guts were churning, causing my tone to be much harsher than I intended, and Granger flinched. I considered just leaving my statement in the air. That perhaps reminding Granger of the prick I had been to her once might make it easier for her to walk away, but she looked so tortured. I couldn't leave it like that. I stood up and crossed the room to kneel before her.

"You shouldn't have to wait for anyone. Any man on Earth, wizard or Muggle, would be proud to be yours. I would be _honoured_ to be yours." I held her face in my hands, tilting it up for her to meet my eyes. A small sob escaped her lips, and a lone tear dropped down her cheek. "You have so much to offer, Hermione Granger. To expect you to wait would be selfish of me. I tried to stamp out your light once before. I will not do that to you again." I pressed up to kiss away the tear on her cheek.

"I've made a fucking mess of everything," she wept, her hands curling around my wrists. My heart crumbled a little.

"We both did," I assured her. "And it was the best mess I've ever made because when it's all said and done, you've made me a better man for it."

"I didn't do anything." she hiccupped.

"Yes, you did. You gave me a second chance that I didn't fucking deserve," I replied earnestly, brushing her hair out from her forehead. "I got to hold your heart for a moment. I'm a lucky man."

She sobbed again, an anguished noise that chipped away at my edges. "How can I let you go now?"

"Because above all else, you have integrity. It's the right thing to do to let this go, and you've always done the right thing. Even when it's difficult." I kissed her cheek again. "And if you're still having a hard time letting go, remember me as a ferret." A reluctant laugh broke through Granger's tears, her hands still gripping my wrists for dear life. I pressed my lips to hers, maybe for the last time, and stood up.

"Are you leaving?" she asked shakily, and I nodded in response. She wiped her cheeks and rose from the couch, watching me while I buttoned my shirt. Placing her hand in mine, Granger walked with me to the fireplace. I turned to look at her, the tears still falling from her eyes. At that moment, the unbreakable Hermione Granger seemed so fragile, and I felt more fragments of my heart drop away. I wrapped her in an embrace and let her cry into my chest. The tiny witch in my arms felt impossibly smaller with every sob that wracked her, and I felt my own throat tight with emotion.

"I don't want to do this," she pleaded between sobs. "Don't make me walk away from you."

"I promise you. If this is meant for us someday, we'll find it again."

Granger pulled back to look up at me, and I pressed my lips to hers. Her sweet, soft minty taste mingled with the salt of her tears, and my heart shuddered in my chest again. Granger deepened the kiss, her arms leaving where she held me around my waist, flinging them around my neck and leaping up into my arms. Her legs wrapped around my hips, and I could feel myself growing hard as our kiss became more desperate. I felt Granger's tears moistening my face, and I suddenly remembered where I was and what was happening. I reached a hand up to grasp her chin.

"Stop, baby," I whispered. "It'll only make it worse."

Granger went limp in my arms, and I placed her feet gently back on the floor. I pressed a kiss to her forehead then bent to touch my forehead to hers.

"You were perfect," I whispered, releasing her hands. Stepping into her fireplace, I watched her sink to the floor. I felt the last pieces of my heart shatter as I Floo'd away.

* * *

I arrived back at my apartment, feeling empty and bereft. I glanced at the clock; it was late morning.

_Fuck it_, I thought, picking up my phone and calling the first name in my Favourites list.

"It's obvious by your colouring that you're a fucking vampire, but the rest of us value sleep," Theo answered groggily.

"Bring alcohol. Anything but firewhiskey. I'm not telling you why."

"It's stupid o'clock on a Tuesday morning," he responded.

"I know," I said dejectedly. I wondered if I looked as pathetic as I sounded.

"Nuff said," was Theo's simple reply before the phone line went dead.

A few minutes later, Theo blazed into my living room, carrying a bottle of Yamazaki 12. He picked up a couple of tumblers from the bar cart but paused when he saw my face.

"We're gonna need a bigger boat," Theo quoted. He headed for the kitchen instead, returning with a large white coffee mug that he placed on the coffee table before me and filled it to the brim.

"Just let me know when you want to talk about Granger," he said dryly.

"Or we could talk about you and Potter," I retorted.

"Fair play. Cheers, dickhead."

* * *

In an apartment across town, Pansy Parkinson stepped out of a white fireplace. Her friend sat on the couch, clutching a box of tissues, her nose red from crying. Pansy took a seat beside her.

"What can I do?" she asked tenderly. Granger shook her head. Her face crumpled, and she collapsed into Pansy's arms, sobbing.


	25. Chapter 25: Hermione

**Chapter 25: Hermione**

"I'm fine," I insisted for the umpteenth time. It was Tuesday evening, and I was adamant that I needed to return to work the following day.

Pansy had stayed with me after Malfoy left, calling in sick for me and setting me up with tissues and a stack of books. Despite my assurance that I had run out of tears and could safely return to work, Pansy argued that I shouldn't expose my co-workers to the abject horror that was my bloodshot eyes and dark circles.

"The pillow creases on your face beg to differ," she replied.

"I don't care how I look. I just need to be at work. I can't stay home and be alone with my brain for another day, I'll go crazy," I said, my eyes brimming with fresh tears. _Okay, so I had some left. _I tried fighting them, but when Pansy looked at me piteously, I felt the tears spill from my eyes.

"This is fucking ridiculous," I wept. "It was barely a month. How can this hurt so fucking much?"

Pansy was thoughtful for a moment. "I don't think the timeframe matters when you meet the other side of your coin."

I looked at her, bleary-eyed through my tears. "What do you mean?"

Pansy reached for her cup of tea. "To borrow one of Luna's phrases: for God's sake, turn your head off for a moment and leave it on the side table."

"I don't think she used those exact words."

"I'm paraphrasing," Pansy replied dismissively. "The point is, you measure everything against this invisible axis in your head. You believe because you only reconnected with Draco about a month ago that you should feel less for him than if you were, say, five years into this."

I mumbled an incoherent assent.

"Your irrepressible rationale doesn't have a place here. This isn't a linear thing. This is your heart." Pansy took another sip of her tea. "It was no surprise to me at all and that you and Draco found your way to one another."

I waited, eager for her to elaborate.

"You're a powerhouse," she explained matter-of-factly. "You're intelligent, determined, fearless and passionate. You've blazed a path for every young witch who will come after you. You are a one-woman _Fiendfyre_, Hermione Granger."

"Thank you, Pansy," I replied, quietly humbled.

"Draco is all of those things, but he doesn't set the world on fire the way you do. He chills it." Pansy tucked her legs up under herself, suddenly serious. "He wasn't always so cold, you know. Draco changed a lot during the war, and it affected everything." Her voice trailed off on the last word. I realised that she was talking about their relationship.

Pansy was pretty circumspect about her relationship with Draco. It was common knowledge that they'd dated at school, with Pansy simpering after him while Malfoy lapped up the attention. I, like most people, had found them to be utterly obnoxious. Upon becoming friends with Pansy, she had explained her family dynamic. Her parents made her feel like a commodity. Being romantically linked to Malfoy gave her an identity and a sense of worth in her parent's eyes. But she'd never shared what led to the end of their relationship.

"Draco was forced to learn some pretty dark stuff, and to survive it, he had to be cold and hide his emotions all the time. He was punished by Voldemort every time he failed his training. It was fucking horrible." Pansy's placid facade faltered, and it was the first time I could ever recall seeing Pansy look so unguarded. Her crystal blue eyes glistened, and her voice was strained. "You don't ever forget the sound of your best friend's screams."

I thought instantly of Harry's screams when Sirius died.

"And for the first time in his life, Draco couldn't run to his father to fix it because it was Lucius's fault Draco was in that situation. We _hated_ him for that; Theo, Blaise and I." Pansy cleared her throat and blinked away her unshed tears.

"It was just before Sixth year that our parents' had arranged our marriage," she continued. "I was a silly little twit back then, and all I could think about was our big, fat, Slytherin wedding. We were going to live happily ever after, you know?" she smirked. "Anyway, he became withdrawn and barely spoke to anyone. Being Draco Malfoy's girlfriend was all I knew how to be, and suddenly he didn't want me anymore? I was selfish, and it confused the hell out of me. Suddenly, the Draco I'd known and loved for so long didn't exist anymore. He was cold, impatient, aloof. It broke my heart. But whatever he was going through, I knew it was bad, so I refused to turn my back on him."

We were silent for a moment. Pansy's shoulders straightened, and her vulnerable expression suddenly cleared as though she'd charmed it; her customary impassivity firmly back in place.

"I think Draco has a great capacity to love. You just have to understand why he is the way he is. Now, he may not be blocking _cruciatus _curses anymore, but he still feels that he has something to prove. It's survival." Pansy took a final sip of her tea and set the cup down delicately. "It's very _Queen Elsa_ of him, really. _'Conceal, don't feel'_. Even the colouring matches when you think about it..."

My head was spinning as I absorbed everything that Pansy had shared with me.

"All I'm trying to say is that Draco is your equal, Hermione," Pansy informed. "You and Draco have survived the worst of times because both of you are a force of nature. Fire and ice."

I sniffed loudly, my tears beginning anew. "Thank you for telling me. Although it's done nothing to help me to feel better about things, you heartless wench."

"Now, Granger, if you want hearts, flowers and fluffy things, call Potter. I give you honesty. And honestly, you need to shower." Pansy flashed me a complex look that was somewhere between disdain and outright pity. I quickly sniffed at my t-shirt and pouted. A day and a half on the couch had left me looking and smelling homeless.

"After that, you need to be kind to yourself," Pansy continued. "You fell hard, and it hurts, but you'll be okay. Take the Dreamless Sleep Potion that I left on the bench for you and call me tomorrow." She stood up, reaching for her Prada purse. "I've styled your work outfits for the rest of the week. Tomorrow's outfit is black because you're mourning the death of the 'D'."

I chuckled despite the ache in my chest, and she pulled me up to hug her.

"Shower, shave your legs, sleep," she ordered firmly, before dropping a chaste kiss on my forehead and exiting through the Floo once more.

* * *

Stepping into my office on Wednesday morning was a fresh hell I hadn't anticipated. Malfoy had only been here once, but I felt his presence imprinted on every surface of my office. I sat down at my desk, trying to collect my thoughts.

_It was the right thing to do._ _It was the right thing to do. _I repeated the mantra in my head a few more times. Eventually, I rolled up the sleeves of my black turtleneck sweater and got to work.

The first order of business: Blaise Zabini's acceptance letter sitting on my desk. Included with it was a hand-written note from Blaise, thanking me for bringing him in and extending an open invitation for lunch.

I opted to take the file to the Owlery myself, seizing the opportunity to get out of my office. Watching the large grey owl carry the file away was bittersweet. I was sad to be walking away from the Project but was grateful for the distance it would put between Malfoy and me. Like it would somehow make it hurt less.

The sense of finality that Malfoy and I were no longer partners, no longer _anything _was gut-wrenching, and I crouched on the floor, squeezing my eyes closed against a fresh onslaught of tears. I gritted my teeth, determined not to let the tears win this time. A few deep breaths later, and I was okay. I straightened up, wiping my palms on my black wide-leg pants, before turning on my heel and striding purposefully out of the Owlery.

_Heart, 76. Hermione, 1._

* * *

The days rolled into weeks, the raw pain of walking away from Malfoy ebbing to a dull ache. I hadn't thought of him as a ferret in over a month. I'd taken up running with Ginny to take my mind off things and had started training for a half-marathon. I had even gone on a few dates. Tonight, it was dinner a healer from St Mungo's, that I met while training. The guy was attractive enough, seemed reasonably intelligent (he _was _a healer) and had similar interests and opinions to mine. But that was precisely the fucking problem - he was so agreeable. There was no pushback, no challenge. I had even used my minimal knowledge of Quidditch to try and debate with him, but nothing. He just stayed infuriatingly neutral on everything. It was like Ron all over again.

After dinner, he apparated us to my apartment building, turning to me expectantly.

"I had a nice time, Hermione," he said.

"Me too," I lied, forcing a smile. I knew what was coming next, and I wanted to try at least. He leaned in and kissed me, but predictably, there was no spark. I kissed him back, determined to feel something. My date's arms wrapped around my waist, his tongue slipping into my mouth. His taste turned to ash on my tongue, and I pulled away quickly.

"Ah, I'm sorry," I apologised. "I'm just not quite there yet."

My date looked deflated, but he hid it quickly. He gave me a small smile. "It's okay. Bad breakup?"

_Could I even call it that?_

"It's complicated," I answered.

My date shrugged his shoulders. "I get it." He scuffed his shoe against the concrete. "Was it Draco Malfoy?"

I hadn't heard his name in weeks. My stomach plummeted. "What makes you think that?"

He shrugged again. "I saw you the photos and the articles about you in _The Daily_ _Prophet _ages ago. I just put two and two together."

I shook my head, but I couldn't answer him properly. My date spared me another small smile, and he reached up to touch my cheek. "When you're ready, give me a call, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure." And then he was gone. I glanced down at my watch—9:26 pm. Harry would still be up.

* * *

The lights were on at 12 Grimmauld Place, but I couldn't hear anyone. I carefully closed the door so as not to disturb the curtains covering Walburga Black's portrait.

"Harry?" I called, walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Kreacher was collecting the dishes from the table. _Two place settings, _I noted curiously.

"Hello, Kreacher. You're looking well. Is Harry in?"

"Master is in the drawing-room," Kreacher growled. Even with all I had done for house-elves with S.P.E.W., this ungrateful little shit's demeanour toward me hadn't much changed over the years. So I acted even more sickly sweet to him, just to piss him off.

"Thank you, Kreacher. You're so kind," I replied, earning me a disgruntled mumble in return. I made my way to the drawing-room, finding the door closed, which I found unusual but opened it to enter.

I was met with the sight of a very shirtless Harry Potter sitting on the sofa, with who appeared to be an equally shirtless Theo Nott kneeling on the floor between Harry's legs. Harry's hand clasped the back of Theo's head.

"Oh, dear God!" I shrieked, immediately covering my eyes and turning away from them.

"No need for formalities, Granger. Theo is fine."

"Hermione!" Harry cried, hastily zipping up his jeans. "Jesus, wh- what are you doing here?"

"Kreacher told me you were in here! I just had a bad date and wanted a drink with you. I'm so sorry; I should've called first!"

Harry shrugged on a shirt. "It's fine, I was just, um -"

Theo patted Harry on the shoulder. "Let's not ruin a beautiful moment with words, Potter."

I turned around, peering cautiously through my hands. "I'm so sorry," I repeated. Harry stared at me, a crimson tinge colouring his cheeks. Theo glanced between us.

"Elevating a situation to this level of awkwardness is my bread and butter," Theo announced loudly. "My work here is done. I'll be in the kitchen." Theo strode out of the room, barking for Kreacher as he went.

"So, bad date?" Harry shuffled uncomfortably and scratched at his stubble; his other hand jammed into his pocket.

"Harry, I am so sorry," I whispered again, but he waved me off.

"It's fine. I was going to tell you soon anyway," Harry replied, sitting on the sofa again. I moved toward the couch opposite him, pausing before taking a seat.

"Is this one safe to sit on?" I asked.

"Shut up. Yes, it's fine," Harry answered. I sat down, flinging my purse onto the seat beside me. "That said, Sirius did live here for years, so there's probably nothing in this house that's safe to sit on. Sleep on. _Eat_ on, even…"

"Oh, that's probably disgustingly true."

Harry chuckled. His cheeks were no longer red, but he still looked sheepish. "I'm sorry you had to walk in on that, Hermione."

"No, _I'm _sorry. I shouldn't have come barging in here. I forget that we're not kids anymore. Respect for privacy is actually a thing."

"Not for me!" came a cry from somewhere in the kitchen.

"Not now, Theo!" Harry yelled back.

"So, you and Theo are…?" I asked.

"Yeah, we are. It's been going on for a while, but obviously, we can't be open about it right now," Harry said with a shrug. "It took me a long time to admit that there was something there."

I nodded absently. _I'm familiar with the feeling._

"Ask Granger whether she prefers the nickname 'Theory' or 'NottPott'," Theo called again.

"Kreacher, please give him something shiny to look at!"

I couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Harry and Theo. They hadn't attracted the public's attention like Malfoy and I had, and while Harry was a Ministry official, he wasn't directly tied to the Project. It was still an illicit relationship under Shacklebolt's orders, but they were far less likely to be exposed.

"I wanted to tell you for a while, but you were going through something of your own." Harry continued, looking pointedly at me. I had told Harry I left the Project, but I hadn't told him why. I had suspected for some time that he was in a relationship with Theo. I didn't want to put Harry in the awkward position of having to lie to him.

"You know you can always tell me anything, Harry. I'm sorry that I haven't been a very good friend to you lately," I apologised.

"It's fine, Hermione. We're good. Are you okay?"

I barked out a mirthless laugh. "In a manner of speaking."

"What went wrong with your date?"

"He probably sent her into the kitchen with the help!" Theo yelled loudly from the other room.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Nott. Get in here!"

Theo sauntered through the door, carrying a bottle of red wine. Three huge wine glasses floated along behind him.

"Are you going to put a shirt on?" I asked him when he plopped himself down beside Harry.

"No, I don't think I will," Theo replied blithely, freeing the cork with a tap of his wand. I opened my mouth to protest, but Harry held up his hand.

"You can keep asking, but really, it's like arguing with an irreverent parakeet -"

"Aw, that's sweet," Theo beamed at Harry, filling the wine glasses.

"– so I find it easier to just go with it."

"Right," I conceded. Theo floated an overfull glass to me, and I immediately drained half of it. Harry and Theo both regarded me with amusement, Theo raising his glass in the air in a silent toast before bringing it to his lips.

"Shit, that bad?" Harry laughed. I swallowed the wine with a grimace.

"No," I choked out, the wine burning down my throat. "It wasn't bad, it was fine. It was nauseatingly, feebly fucking fine."

"Okayyyyyyy," Harry replied slowly, dragging out the last syllable. "So why are you chugging wine like you're back at university?"

I didn't answer straight away. Instead, I chugged my wine like I was back at university.

"Kreacher! Master says we're going to need more wine!" Theo bellowed. A moment later, Kreacher skulked into the room, grumbling under his breath and dutifully carrying two more bottles of red.

"I don't want '_fine'_," I said when my glass was overfull again. "'_Fine'_ is only good when you're talking about food or art. Or wine." I took another long swallow, exhaling through the burn. "'_Fine'_ is one of the last things you want for your life, though, isn't it? When you're on your deathbed, who wants to look back and say, '_my life was fine'_?"

Harry shrugged, nodding thoughtfully. Theo momentarily looked subdued.

"Depends on where you start, Granger," he mused. "For some, '_fine'_ can be quite an improvement."

Harry gave Theo's thigh a brief squeeze, the two sharing a compassionate look. Harry and Theo both had rough childhoods; no doubt it was something they had bonded over. _No matter what side you were born on, abuse doesn't discriminate. _I swiftly felt guilty for complaining about how bland my relationships were now when the people close to me had it so much worse for much longer.

My parents adored me before I obliviated them. Ginny and Ron may not have had wealth, but they had love in spades. We were the lucky ones. Luna lost her mother at a young age and had to care for her father. Pansy's parents determined her worth by whom they could marry her off to. She had become decidedly less valuable to them when her arranged marriage to Malfoy was called off, and subsequently, she had a very strained relationship with her parents. Harry's childhood was now legendary. Theo never knew his mother and had felt nothing from his father but the back of his hand. Even Blaise had a new stepfather for every day of the week.

"God, I'm a jerk," I blurted out, the wine buzzing in my veins.

"In this instance, yes. But you get points for recognising it," Harry answered good-naturedly.

"How come when Granger is a jerk, she gets points, but when I'm a jerk, all I get is _'don't make me arrest you again, Nott_'?" Theo turned to Harry accusingly.

"Because when you're a jerk, it usually involves the defacement of public property. As an Auror, it's my job to stop it."

"Did you by chance learn that judgey face from Pansy?"

"Did you by chance learn your social skills from Peeves?"

The wine was warming me from the inside out, and a giggle bubbled up from my throat. I tried smothering it with my hand, but the giggles soon got the better of me. Harry and Theo stopped bickering and looked at where I was now laughing, sprawled out on the sofa, my wine glass almost empty again.

"You're not usually such a lightweight," Harry chuckled. "Must be the marathon training."

"I'm sorry, you're just so bloody cute," I sputtered between belly laughs.

"She obviously means me, Potter."

"Does she though?" said Harry doubtfully.

"I want to know how you two got together." I held out my glass for more wine.

"How could I forget?" Harry began. "I've tried so hard."

"_Really, _Potter?" Theo sputtered indignantly. He was still shirtless; his fist closed tightly around the stem of his wine glass. He looked so ridiculously offended that my giggles erupted uncontrollably once again, earning me a glare from Theo. "Get out of my house, Granger."

"This isn't your house, Nott," Harry reminded him calmly, placing his hand on the base of Theo's glass and tipping it toward his mouth. "I'm sorry. Have another drink."

Theo huffed for a moment but silently sipped his wine.

"We'd become passing acquaintances over the years -"

"'_Passing acquaintances_'? That's a bit _la-di-dah _for you, isn't it?" Theo teased.

"– But I guess the first time we really spoke was at a Harpies game," Harry continued, purposely ignoring Theo. "The investment mob Nott was working for at the time was a major sponsor of the Harpies, and he was invited to a post-game corporate function. I was there with Ginny. Something clicked for me at the time, but I didn't know what it was. After that, things just didn't feel right with Ginny and me, and we broke up a few months later."

Even in my moderately drunken haze, I was starting to put the pieces together from the snippets that Harry and Ginny had both told me about their breakup. I nodded, urging Harry to continue.

"Nott and I didn't really keep in contact at all. A few months ago, I was at Seamus's pub with the others from our Thursday night Quidditch team, discussing who we could get as a fill-in for the following week," Harry went on. "Theo was at the bar getting a drink, and he volunteered."

"Ask me how good I am at Quidditch," Theo said to me.

"How good?"

"Fucking terrible. Ask me how good I looked in the uniform."

"I'm begging you, Hermione, don't," Harry cut in. "Nott's right. He was fucking terrible, and we got smashed by the opposition. Anyway, as usual, we went to Seamus's after the game for a pint, and Nott came with us. It was a great night. After the others left, I stayed back and just hung out with him."

Theo had been silent for three whole minutes, which had to have been a record for him. He quietly sipped his wine, gazing fondly at Harry across the rim of his glass.

"The thing that had clicked for me that day at the Harpies was still there, and I didn't want to leave." Harry smiled warmly at Theo, and my heart swelled. "On the walk home, I was drunk enough to admit to Nott that I think I liked him but that I was terrified because I didn't expect to feel that way about another guy."

"I'm very much not just 'another guy', though. I have a certain _je ne sais quoi_," Theo chimed in.

"You do, and I promise you, we will get it checked out first thing on Monday," Harry responded, rubbing Theo's leg patronisingly, laughing when Theo pushed his hand away. "Then I got scared and pretty much ignored him. Fast forward a few weeks to the night you and I went for dinner at Seamus's, and we saw Nott with Malfoy, and I realised how much I liked him, but I was still terrified. We hooked up after the benefit ball -"

"Oh, the cuticle thing!" I piped up.

"- and now, here we are." Harry raised his glass in a toast.

"I think Roxette said it best." Theo clinked his glass with Harry's.

"'_Listen to Your Heart'_?" I asked.

"'_Joyride'_, actually. But contextually, yours is much better."

"It's all making so much sense now," I said, disregarding Theo's comment. Theo and Harry sat there in comfortable silence, drinking their wine and looking so smugly happy with themselves. I exhaled a huge sigh, the fog from my third bucket-sized glass of red wine blurring the edges of my vision, or perhaps it was more sodding tears.

"I'm so happy you're happy, Harry," I said, my voice straining with imminent drunk tears. I sniffed and wailed loudly. "You found the other side of your coin!"

"Oh, bloody hell." Harry moved off the sofa to sit beside me, putting his arms around me and leaning my head against his chest.

"I'll help Kreacher make up the spare room." Theo slid from the sofa with a sigh, shouting for Kreacher again as he went. Harry rocked me back and forth comfortingly for a moment until my tears subsided a little. He then dragged me to stand, reaching for his wand and flicking it toward the ancient gramophone in the corner. It crackled for a moment before a familiar tune filled the air, and Harry pulled me in for a dance.

"This worked to make you feel better last time you were really sad," he whispered.

"_O, children_," sang the chorus of voices from the gramophone.

The wine in our systems was not making our coordination any better since the last time we danced to this song, but Harry felt as sturdy as ever under my hands.

"I think I fell in love with Malfoy," I admitted, my head resting on Harry's shoulder as we spun lazily on the spot.

"Malfoy? Really?" Harry pulled back to look at me, his eyes wide with surprise. I nodded forlornly, and Harry smiled. "Who'd have thought you and I would fall in love with a couple of Slytherins?"

"And they're the worst Slytherins too!" I wailed, my head flopping back on to his shoulder.

Harry laughed, still dancing slowly. "Theo's not so bad. And as long as Malfoy makes you happy and takes care of you, Hermione, that's all that matters."

"It doesn't matter, it's over anyway," I murmured sullenly. "Because of the Project, it barely got off the ground."

The song faded out with a crackle, but I stayed in the protective circle of my best friend's arms.

"Do you want to stay?" Harry asked before releasing me.

I shook my head, regretting it immediately when the action made me feel dizzy. "I've spoiled your night enough. You should go and finish what I interrupted earlier."

Theo re-entered the room, eating a grilled cheese sandwich.

"I thought you were helping Kreacher make up the spare bed?"

"I was."

"Then where did you get the sandwich?"

Theo took an enormous bite. "You're so detail-oriented, Potter. You should've been an Auror."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the love of my fucking life," Harry chuckled. Theo tipped an imaginary hat. "Come on, Hermione, I'll walk you out."

"I'll walk her out. You should fix your teeth. They're all red from the wine and if you think for one minute that I'm letting you anywhere _near_ my d -"

"Night, Harry!" I walked out to the hallway, cutting Theo off mid-sentence. When we reached the front door, Theo pulled me in for an unexpected hug, whispering in my ear.

"For what it's worth, Draco is fucking miserable too."

I gasped, pulling back to look at him. He winked and opened the front door, the wind whistling in past us.

"Concentrate on getting home safe, Granger, else you'll splinch."

"I'm not sad about Dra-, I mean, Malfoy."

Theo tutted. "Just focus. I am not one for picking up severed limbs, please and thank you." He leaned casually against the doorframe, sandwich still in hand. "Text Harry once you get home, so we know you made it safe, okay?"

He shut the door behind me once I reached the apparition point. The cold night air had left me devastatingly sober.

_You're not alone in this._

* * *

_**A/N: Thank you for the reviews on Chapter 24. That one hurt to write. I needed to break up the heartbreak with a bit of Harry/Theo fluff, I hope you enjoy. Stay safe and well wherever you may be in the world. xx**_


	26. Chapter 26: Draco

**Chapter 26: Draco**

Time is a funny thing. When you're accidentally falling for the woman you've hated for the better part of your life, a month feels like nothing. On the other hand, when she walks away from you, you feel every second of the months that go by.

The holiday season had come and go, and the snow was just beginning to melt when the Project began its final stages of wrapping up. Theo and I had provided funding towards the development of new potions to vaccinate against common illnesses in early childhood. The clinical trials had been a success, and the Muggle government had approved the mass production of these potions. It was expected to be available to all Britons within three months.

Theo and I were seated in the armchairs in my office lounge area, waiting to begin a video conferencing call with Shacklebolt. Soon enough, a holographic image of Shacklebolt appeared on my wall.

"The Muggle government and the Ministry thank you both for your generosity. This Project has been a tremendous success."

"The honour is ours, Kingsley. As we said at the start of this, thank you for just giving us the opportunity," I replied.

"I overheard someone the other day refer to me as '_one of the guys working with the Ministry on some project'_, which is a nice step-up from '_that Death Eater's kid'_," Theo added.

Shacklebolt brow creased slightly. "I thought you were usually known as '_Draco Malfoy's mate'_?"

I watched Theo's face contort with effort, and he turned pointedly away from Shacklebolt's image. Restraint wasn't one of Theo's strongest suits, and I watched him struggle with his burdening urge to unload a mouthful of expletives. Shacklebolt glanced at me, sparing me a wink.

"So the charity game is in two weeks. I expect I will see you both be attending the post-game cocktail party?"

The charity game was an exhibition Quidditch tournament for St. Mungo's paediatrics department. We were playing at Puddlemere United's home ground, and I was playing Seeker for the Green team. The Muggle Prime Minister and a few other officials involved with the Project would be attending. To celebrate the end of the Project, the Ministry was hosting a cocktail party afterwards for the Project team.

"We'll be there," I nodded. Theo was still too incensed to talk.

"Good. Now, surely, I don't need to remind either of you that you'll be there as Ministry guests and there will be Muggles present, so behave yourselves and don't do anything stupid."

"_I'll_ be fine, but you should probably make sure Potter is there because this one can't be trusted around the silverware," I gestured to Theo. His stony countenance momentarily softened as he regarded me with a tiny smirk and a gleam in his eyes before his expression hardened again.

Theo had finally come clean about his relationship with Potter some months ago. Usually, Theo's happiness levels depended on the level of fuckery he was causing. Still, after two months of being outright fucking _gleeful _and nothing around him seemed to be blowing up, I confronted him. I was happy for him, and I'd found that Potter wasn't a bad bloke once I'd spent a bit of time with him. Theo was as keen as I was for the Project to be over as it meant that he could finally go public with their relationship.

"Auror Potter is going, for that exact reason." Shacklebolt raised an eyebrow at Theo. "Katie will contact you to arrange plus-one's for you both if you want them."

"Thanks, Kingsley. Let us know if you need anything else."

"Will do." The call ended, and Shacklebolt's image disappeared from my wall. I glanced across at Theo. His mouth was fixed in a hard line.

"Whenever you're ready," I prompted, anticipating an outburst.

"I'm fine."

"Three…" I began.

Theo looked at me, scornfully. "No need for that."

"… two …"

"Honestly, it doesn't matter."

"… one."

"I just think it's funny how for years, I have maintained this persona, one that has been carefully cultivated, of being the steady one. The affable one. The one whom can be trusted to right the ship, because let's be frank, I have always been your ballast." Theo's hands flailed erratically as he spoke. "But _apparently, _I will only ever be known as '_Draco Malfoy's mate'_, a handsome weed left to wither in the corner, ever straining for whatever sunshine the dichotomising blossom that is His Lordship deigns to filter down to me."

I waited silently for a moment. It wasn't the first Theo rant I'd been forced to listen to; it was unlikely to be the last. "You good?"

"I am now."

"You sure?"

"Yep." Theo looked visibly lighter.

"Do I need to call Pansy?"

"She's already called me once today. She's haranguing me into a forest green velvet jacket for the cocktail party."

"'_Harangue' _suggests that you didn't leap at the idea, which we both know better."

Theo acquiesced with a one-shouldered shrug and began scrolling on his phone. I stood up and walked to my desk. "By the way, '_dichotomising blossom'_?"

Theo grinned irreverently. "How good was it?"

"Not your best work, actually."

"Everyone deserves an off day, and _the_ _point of all of that was not even about you_, you vainglorious swine."

I chuckled, tapping at my laptop. Ten minutes of answering emails went by before I noted that Theo hadn't left. "Don't you have work to do?"

He didn't respond, instead continued to scroll intently through his phone. Sara's voice floated in.

"I've got Katie Bell from the Minister's office for you about plus-one's. What shall I tell her?"

I had an inkling that Granger would be at the post-game celebration, and I hadn't seen her since we had ended things. To begin with, Theo and Potter had seemed to understand that going cold-turkey without Granger would make me mental, so they would feed me tidbits of information about her here and there, like she'd started marathon training or that she'd been working too hard. However, when Potter reluctantly told me that she had been dating, I went cold and I couldn't stand to hear anymore. I felt my walls going up.

I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, when Granger set her mind to something, she always went after it. She was just doing what she said she would do: going about her life, seeing other people. Pretending like we never happened.

"Let her know that Theo will be taking Miss Pansy Parkinson, and I'll also be taking a date," I replied. Theo looked up from his phone; a sceptical eyebrow raised.

"_Really?" _he mouthed.

"And can you please get Astoria Greengrass on the phone for me, Sara?"

* * *

Lady Astoria Greengrass was a fucking knockout. Long hair the colour of caramel. Tall and lithe with a ramrod posture honed by years of ballet and churlish reminders from her mother to '_stand up straight'. _Wearing an ivory blouse and matching trousers, Astoria was the very picture of wealth and upper-class elegance. She was poised, and she charmed each guest we greeted upon our arrival to the event room.

My date to the post-game cocktail party was gorgeous, but I was having a hard time showing any interest.

"Smile, Draco," she hissed at me through a practised, veneered grin. "Anyone would think you're not happy being here with me."

She wasn't fucking wrong. I plastered a false smile on my face and summoned both of us a drink.

The Greengrass girls, Daphne and Astoria, had both been vaguely considered as a potential wife for me but were passed over in favour of Pansy. Daphne was okay but I had considered Astoria Greengrass to be a vain, insipid bore. Five minutes in her company now, and I could see that not much had changed.

I scoured the room, looking for a familiar face. Eventually, I found Blaise standing in the corner, leaning down and whispering in a beaming Luna Lovegood's ear. The two of them looked deeply ensconced in conversation, which seemed like a perfect time for me to interrupt. I clasped Astoria's hand and headed toward them, ignoring her protests. Blaise and Luna exchanged a dubious glance as I approached, my hapless date dragging behind me.

"Hey, good to see you both," I greeted them before motioning to Astoria. "You remember Astoria Greengrass."

Blaise spared her a wry smile and nodded his head in response, glancing askance at me once again.

"That's a nice outfit," Luna remarked, politely. "I saw it in the window at Madame Malkin's."

Astoria looked down her nose condescendingly at Luna, her overfilled lips pursed disapprovingly. Luna had a small smile on her face, which I had come to recognise as being one of her deceptively sweet expressions. "This outfit did _not _come from Madame Malkin's. It's Chanel."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It was naïve of me to assume that Lady Greengrass would want to support local ateliers rather than high-street Muggle labels that get plenty of exposure already. My mistake."

"Uh -" was the only response Astoria could offer.

Blaise, Luna and I were soon engaged in a lively conversation, with Astoria hovering at the edges, laughing perfunctorily at appropriate times. We were joined soon after by Theo and Pansy, and it became even harder to keep Astoria included in the conversation. Eventually, she excused herself to the bathroom, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why on Earth did you bring her?" Pansy demanded. "I'd have conjured a balloon animal for you if I'd known you were so desperate."

"Play nice, pumpkin," Theo said, sipping his drink.

"I've known Astoria for a long time. It was easier to bring her than trying to meet someone," I replied. "Besides, she got a fair bit of flak from the topless photographs that Rita Skeeter published in _The Daily Prophet_, so she's keen to get her parents back on side."

"And she thinks being seen in public with you will somehow help?" Pansy asked sceptically.

"Money talks, my dear, and he's still very pretty," Theo pointed out.

"Now _Daphne_ Greengrass at least has a bit of substance." Pansy continued with derision. "You couldn't have asked her why?"

"Because she's married, Pans, remember? You went to her wedding."

"Oh, that's right."

Theo opened his mouth to respond but stopped short, his face breaking into a ridiculous grin at something over my shoulder. Or _someone, _as I discovered when I turned around. Potter had just arrived. He had walked in at the same time as Cormack McLaggen, the two of them playing as Seeker and Keeper for today's Red Team. Now there was a smug prick I couldn't stand. McLaggen was a wanker at school because he was a decent Quidditch player and his post-school Quidditch career success had done fuck all to curb his arrogance.

Potter spotted Theo, and a matching stupid grin spread across his face, and he weaved through the crowd to stand beside his partner. Potter greeted us collectively, only glancing at Theo when he reached out to furtively brush his fingers against Potter's. Not satisfied just to wave from across the room, McLaggen also walked over to join us. He inserted himself into the conversation, not caring for one moment that he was utterly unwelcome. After a few minutes, he pulled me to the side, out of earshot of the others.

"Are you here with Astoria Greengrass?" he asked, a smug grin on his face.

"Um, yeah. Why's that?"

He scoffed. "Lucky bastard. I got stuck with the Golden Girl."

"The Golden Girl?" I repeated.

"Yeah. Bloody Hermione Granger. She asked me out of the blue if I'd be her date." He took a swig of his drink. "Was going to say no, but she's got this sad-eyed thing happening, so I thought, why not? You know what they say about sad chicks …" he trailed off.

The implication in his tone set my hackles rising. "What about them?"

He laughed mirthlessly. "They're easy to get a leg over, mate. Just have to say a few nice things to them, make them feel all warm and fuzzy and _boom, _they're on the end of your dick and calling you Daddy."

My jaw clenched, and it took everything in me not to break his face. I turned to face him.

"You won't _ever_ talk about Hermione Granger like that again, do you understand?" I snarled.

He snorted. "Mate, what do you care? The good girls are always the freaks." He held up his fingers in _The Shocker _hand gesture before taking another swig.

My anger flared and I stepped closer to him. "I'd show a lot more respect for that woman if I were you, _mate_," I threatened. "I'm not a Death Eater anymore but I still know some tricks. And I'm pretty sure Potter would look the other way."

"Hey man, I'm only kidding. Relax." McLaggen lifted his hands and took a step away from me. Blaise and Luna regarded me curiously.

"Alright?" Blaise asked, correctly reading my expression.

"Yeah," I replied tersely. "McLaggen's a fucking pig."

"Too right," Blaise answered, then nodded toward the door. "Steel yourself, my man." Luna wordlessly took the empty glass from me, replacing it with the tumbler from Blaise's hand.

"Hey," Blaise protested. Luna smiled up at him, picking invisible lint from his patterned blazer. "I think Malfoy might need that more than you do," she remarked, leaning into his side affectionately. "After all, he's the one that brought a date he doesn't like just to prove he isn't in love with Hermione."

"I am not in love with Granger," I retorted curtly, earning me another of Luna's trademark conspiratorial smiles.

Granger looked tense as she and Ginny approached us, greeting her girlfriends with a hug and stiffening as she accepted a kiss on the cheek from McLaggen.

I knew I was being selfish. She wanted us to wait for each other but, like a fucking idiot, I'd refused. Perhaps deep down, I'd believed that we'd find each other again. _'If you love something, set it free'_ as they say. I'd set Granger free but my foolish arrogance hadn't allowed for the possibility that she wouldn't come back. Now, I was confronted with the harsh reality that I had lost _my _golden girl. My stubborn pride and protective instincts wouldn't let her see me hurting. I'd given my reflection another ludicrous pep talk before leaving my apartment this morning, reminding myself that Granger had moved on. I would try to be her friend but this time, I would keep my heart guarded.

My resolve momentarily quavered when Granger's eyes met mine. Those eyes that always saw straight through me. As always, she was a vision. She was wearing a floaty black blouse, and her short printed skirt showed off miles of bare leg. Her hair was up, and her lips were vivid red. But there was something different about Granger that I couldn't place. She'd lost weight; that much was instantly noticeable. But there was something else.

"Hi," she breathed nervously. She frowned momentarily and cleared her throat. "Nice to see you, Malfoy." She extended her fine-boned hand to me, her other hand white-knuckling her black velvet clutch. The memory of her leaving my apartment after our first time together came unbidden into my mind, and I bit back a chuckle.

"God, you suck at this, Granger," I remarked, trying to diffuse the tension. A mixture of recognition and relief flashed in Granger's eyes, and she opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted by the presence of someone at my side. I inwardly groaned when I realised Astoria had returned.

"Sorry, I took so long, babe," she purred to me before turning her attention to Granger and McLaggen. "Oh, my God, Cormac McLaggen! How _are _you?" She wrapped him in a firm hug; McLaggen's hands resting too low on her back to be considered in good taste.

"You look bloody gorgeous as always, Astoria," he remarked, stepping back and looking her up and down lewdly. My blood boiled again. _How dare the smarmy prick act like that when Granger is right beside him. _It occurred to me too many seconds later that my issue should've been with the jerk leering at _my_ date.

"Thank you. Gosh, it's been so long! Are you in town for long? We should do dinner!"

"Sure thing -" _Were they fucking serious?_

"_McLaggen!" _Pansy interrupted loudly. "Perhaps your date may like a drink?"

McLaggen blinked as if he'd forgotten that he wasn't alone. Astoria looked at Granger, her nose lifting scornfully.

"Who's your date?" Astoria asked disdainfully.

"Oh, this is Hermione," McLaggen replied dismissively.

"Who?"

Pansy and Theo let out twin snorts of derision. The others all looked at Astoria dubiously. There wasn't a witch or wizard alive, particularly a Hogwarts alum, who didn't recognise Hermione Granger. Granger took it in stride, extending her hand to Astoria graciously.

"I'm Hermione Granger. We met at Hogwarts. I was the same year as your sister, Daphne."

"Oh, right. I don't remember you at all," Astoria said, her mouth turning up in an unattractive sneer. A clink of glass commanded our attention, and our interest diverted to Shacklebolt.

* * *

A few hours later, the cocktail party had ended, and our small group had moved on to a Wizarding nightclub. Once seated at a table, Astoria groaned loudly.

"Thank God, that's over. If I had to listen to that boring old muppet Shacklebolt for another second, I was going to pass out." She rolled her eyes, oblivious to the scathing looks around her. "I mean, we get it. You're the Minister for Magic, but, like, what have you actually _done_?" Astoria aimed a simpering smile at me. "Drake, baby, could you get me another drink?"

Theo barked with laughter at the frankly uncomfortable nickname that no one had ever used before. Normally when Theo's being a pest, Potter would run interference, but even he had an amused smirk on his face. With a resigned sigh, I summoned a floating tray of cocktails. McLaggen transfigured a small cocktail into a larger glass and handed it to Granger with a lecherous wink.

"Oh, thank you, but I'm just going to stick to water," she declined politely. McLaggen's face darkened slightly.

"Oh, come on, babe." McLaggen pulled Granger into his side and ran his nose behind her ear. "It'll loosen you up."

"No, thank you. I'm only a week out from the marathon, so I'm not drinking right now," Granger explained, subtly leaning away from him.

"Just have one," he insisted.

"No," Granger replied more firmly.

"McLaggen," Luna warned. McLaggen paused and looked around the table to see seven faces glaring at him. Luna's eyes narrowed. "She said no."

McLaggen scoffed and nudged Granger's glass closer to her. I leaned across the table and transfigured the cocktail into water. Granger gave me a grateful glance, which earned her a withering glare from Astoria.

"You know what, I feel like dancing," Astoria announced pointedly, standing and pulling me toward the dancefloor.

"No, please. Don't go," Pansy deadpanned.

Astoria dragged me to the middle of the other dancing couples, pressing herself close to me. She barely looked at me, though. When we had arrived at the club, Astoria had transformed her outfit to a tight-fitting navy satin minidress, and now her gaze flitted around the room to see how many admirers she had amassed. Astoria found someone of interest and a lascivious smile spread across her face. She began some kind of dance that she intended to be sexy, but I found completely off-putting. She swung her hips, and her shoulders rolled as she pressed herself even closer against me. Astoria came from an aristocratic family as I did, and come hell or high water, we all learned to dance. Whatever she was doing now was purely for the benefit of others around us, and I wanted no part in it. I glanced around to find the motivation for Astoria's sudden descent into crass showmanship. I found it – McLaggen and Granger were on the dancefloor not five metres from us. My eyes locked to Granger's as McLaggen tugged gracelessly on her hips.

I held her gaze for a moment longer, waiting for her to register the nudge in her psyche. Her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing. _There it is. _I concentrated hard.

_Are you okay?_

Her eyes widened, and I gave her a small smile.

_My date is a prick, _she mouthed back, dismissing McLaggen's puzzled look with a small shake of her head. I laughed, immediately biting it back when Astoria took it as encouragement. Granger's expression morphed into a smirk as the absurdity of Astoria's dance moves escalated. Astoria pressed her back against my chest, and she ground her hips exaggeratedly against me. Several people were looking bemusedly in our direction, and I felt the back of my neck heating with embarrassment.

"Easy, Astoria, not here," I hissed in Astoria's ear, spinning her abruptly to face me. She gasped theatrically and brought her face close to mine.

"If not here, maybe you could take me upstairs," Astoria murmured suggestively.

"We're at a club, Astoria. I don't exactly think there are any beds here."

She smiled wantonly. "You're a wizard, Drake. You could take me anywhere with a few well-placed disillusionment spells," she whispered in my ear, biting down on my earlobe for good measure. When Granger did that, it was sensual and alluring. Astoria made it feel like a squirrel gnawing on an acorn. I moved out of her reach, giving her a tight smile. Astoria's expression hardened, and she glared at me.

"Or maybe I'll just find someone else to do what you're not man enough to," she hissed.

I chuckled at that. "Be my guest, Astoria." I released her and gave her a mechanical bow. "I'll even give you a head start. _McLaggen!" _I called. McLaggen and Granger stared at me puzzled as I approached with Astoria.

"Mind if Lady Greengrass cuts in?" I asked drily, grabbing McLaggen's wrist and placing Astoria's hand roughly in his. I gazed at Granger as I offered my arm, silently imploring her to take it. As I led Granger from the dancefloor toward where the others were still seated, I could feel Astoria's wrath searing into my back. I wondered for a moment if I wasn't a bit of a prat, knowing what McLaggen's attitude towards women was. I looked back briefly at Astoria, who had recovered quickly from my public rejection and was again performing her hip-grinding salsa thing with a far more receptive McLaggen.

_Match made in heaven._

I guided Granger into a seat at the table, taking up a place beside her. Once we were seated, Pansy arched a well-defined eyebrow at us. "Where did you leave the gold-digging succubus?"

I gestured toward the dancefloor with a chuckle.

"I've got ten galleons on them snogging by the end of the next song," Theo announced, chucking a handful of coins onto the table.

"This is not a fucking seniors raffle, Nott. Commit or go home." Ginny declared, adding fifty galleons to Theo's coins.

"I'll put a hundred on them disappearing for coitus," Luna added. Each of us snapped our heads to her in surprise, except Blaise who simply fist-bumped her. The conversation among the group soon turned into a series of quips and witty observations about the crowd before them, and I seized the moment to talk to Granger.

"How are you, really?" I asked, wanting to kick myself for not coming up with something more thoughtful.

She nodded. "I'm good. Work has been pretty demanding, but I like it that way. How are you?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Good." I wasn't one for being lost for words, but every word seemed to dry up in my throat. We sat in awkward silence for a few moments before Granger let out a snort.

"You really couldn't come up with anything better than '_how are you'_ as your opener?"

"I'm a closer, not an opener," I informed her. "Although I was hoping for something more profound than that."

"You missed," she smirked. "Badly."

"Yeah, thank you."

"I mean, you haven't seen me in months. Did you not rehearse this exact moment?"

I looked at her incredulously. "Uh, _no. _Did you?"

I waited for Granger's smirk to transform into the full-blown grin that I'd come to expect whenever she won a round of verbal sparring, but it never happened. It occurred to me at that moment what was different about her – I hadn't seen her smile since she arrived. The fire that was inherently Granger, and that I took for granted would always be there, seemingly extinguished.

"I did. Nothing seemed quite enough," Granger said earnestly.

A cheer erupted from the others, startling us both.

"Who had money on the snog?" Blaise asked, to which Ginny and Theo raised their hands. Indeed, Astoria and McLaggen were kissing exuberantly on the dancefloor.

"I feel like we should care more about my date making out with yours," I said to Granger.

"Meh, saves me a job," she shrugged nonchalantly, her face suddenly twisting in distaste. With their mouths still suctioned to one another, Astoria now had one of her legs hitched up over McLaggen's hip. The other dancers had formed a three-metre exclusion zone around them.

"Jesus. Is that a Pureblood thing?" Granger asked, her mouth still contorted in disgust.

"No," we answered firmly in unison.

"Looks like you are mere minutes away from making good on your bet, Luna," Theo grinned, coughing when Potter swiftly back-handed him across the stomach. A stern-looking man, seemingly the manager, approached our table. He looked none too pleased with the spectacle Astoria and McLaggen were making.

"Those two came in here with you lot, and I don't want a scene that ends up all over in _The Daily Prophet_. Sort it out, and do it discreetly."

"I've got it," Potter remarked and allowed his concealed wand to drop out of his sleeve into his hand.

Theo smirked. "I thought you were just happy to see me, Potter."

"That doesn't sound like me," Potter replied drolly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to break up an act of public indecency."

"He's there. Someone grab him!" Pansy trolled him. Potter shook his head and headed toward the dancefloor. We watched with fascination as Potter approached Astoria and McLaggen, interrupting them with a tap on the shoulder. I could see the backs of his ears glowing red as he talked to them.

"I'd give my left nut for an Extendable Ear right now," Blaise chortled.

"Why only the left one?" Theo asked.

"I'm quite attached to the right one," Luna answered wistfully. "It's my favourite."

* * *

_**A/N: Sorry, it seems like an awkward place to end the chapter but I'm mindful of the word count. **_

_**Wherever you may be in the world, stay safe and well, and wear a mask, please and thank you. xx**_


	27. Chapter 27: Hermione

**Chapter 27: Hermione**

We watched with amusement as Harry directed Cormac and Astoria to move off the dancefloor, the pair slinking into the crowd and disappearing out of sight. When Harry returned to us, we applauded him loudly.

"Well, that was fun," he responded with a wry chuckle, resuming his seat beside me. "Didn't I tell you that being Head Auror wasn't all it cracked up to be?"

"Imagine that headline," Ginny laughed. "'_Quidditch Star and Socialite Cock-Blocked By The Boy Who Lives!'_"

I felt myself smile for the first time all evening. I had invited Cormac McLaggen to the cocktail party after bumping into him at a coffee shop. We chatted while we stood in line, and I recalled my heart dropping out of my chest when a tall man entered the coffee shop behind Cormac, silhouetted in the doorframe against the outside glare. As the man moved further into the coffee shop, the light adjusted to reveal that it wasn't Malfoy, and I was suddenly exhausted by the constant disappointment every time I thought I saw him and it turned out to be someone else or every time a date didn't stack up. I resolved then and there to stop waiting.

Cormac happened to be in the right place at the right time, so on a whim, I asked him to the cocktail party. But something about the look he gave me when he agreed to come to the cocktail party felt off, and I was instantly wanted to rescind the invitation. I rationalised that we'd be around my friends so nothing could go wrong, but the unease never left me.

With my insistence that watching the Quidditch game would likely put me in a coma, we agreed to meet up at the cocktail party. My determination to move on from Malfoy deserted me when I walked in and saw him for the first time in months. I'd felt more than a small twinge of jealousy when I saw him with Astoria. They looked good together – a picture-perfect blue-blooded couple. Impeccably dressed, the woman had legs like a baby giraffe and perfectly poreless, blemish-free skin. I remembered looking between Astoria and Pansy and wondering if one of the perks of being well-born was to be blessed with Pinterest-worthy glass skin. But Astoria also seemed superficial and snobbish, and Malfoy appeared to be disinterested. I was ashamed of the self-satisfaction I felt when he ditched her on the dancefloor.

_The dancefloor._

Cormac had dragged me there and proceeded to paw at me and grind up against me, although his attention was more on Astoria than on me. I had caught Malfoy more than once this evening shooting stony glares at Cormac, and then he had edged into my mind to ask if I was okay. Did Malfoy know something about Cormac that I didn't?

An enthusiastic peal of laughter dragged my attention back to the present.

"It's a good thing you shut them down before McLaggen had a chance to get his wand out, Harry," Luna said with a cheeky smile. "Who's to say what you might have done?"

"_EXPELLIARMUS!" _shrieked the Slytherins, the table dissolving into hysterics.

"Fuck off, the lot of you," Harry replied with a hearty laugh. "They asked if they could just go into a bathroom instead."

"My queen. Winner of hearts and bets," Blaise cheered, wrapping his arm around Luna and kissing the top of her head.

"Not quite. I thought it was best for all involved if I just sent them home." Harry turned to Malfoy and I. "Sorry, guys."

"Oh, don't apologise. McLaggen was vile at school, he's vile now," I replied, both of us waving him off. "I don't know why I agreed to come with him."

"Because you have terrible taste in men, Granger," Theo answered, smirking purposely at Malfoy.

"So does Potter," Pansy retorted, before slipping her arm through Theo's. "Now can someone please _scourgify _the dancefloor so the rest of us can use it?"

With a flick of his wand, Harry cast the cleaning spell, then repeated it at Pansy's insistence. Theo shared a fond glance with Harry and led Pansy to the dancefloor, followed by Blaise and Luna. Harry and Ginny shared a colluding glance and abruptly departed for the bar, leaving Malfoy and I alone at the table.

"Subtle," Malfoy declared, before turning to me. His eyes roamed my face as if he was looking for something that was lost. Being this close to him brought back to the surface how much I'd missed him.

Oh, how I'd missed him.

I'd missed his eyes, his mouth, his overbearing arrogance. I'd missed the way he'd challenged me. I'd missed the way I felt when I was beginning to fall in love with him. But there was something in him that was out of place.

"Why did you get into my head earlier?" I asked him.

"Because you're a fucking idiot for inviting McLaggen," he said bluntly. My temper flared instantly.

"And Astoria Greengrass is any better?" I retorted hotly. "Tell me, is it her legs that makes up for her deplorable lack of personality, or is it her tits?"

"Neither. I'm more of an arse man."

"You are despicable."

"Are you flirting with me?" Malfoy smirked. I yanked his hair at the back of his head, forcing him to look me in the eyes. "_Ouch, _Granger -"

"Answer my question," I demanded firmly. "Why did you break into my mind?"

"Okay, firstly, you can let go of my hair now, you harpy wench." I released my grip, and Malfoy ran his hand through his hair, scowling. _Vain bastard._ "Secondly_, _McLaggen was a slimy git about you before you arrived, and you didn't look like you were enjoying his company. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

I frowned. "What did he say?"

"Are you going to see him again?" Malfoy asked.

"Unlikely."

He shrugged, lifting his drink to his mouth. "Then it doesn't matter."

"What did he say?" I repeated. Malfoy only shook his head, but his expression was stern. "Malfoy, I want to know what he said."

He faced me; his mouth set in a firm line. "McLaggen said that he only accepted the date because you looked sad, and in his opinion, sad girls are easy."

"Easy?" I frowned in confusion.

Malfoy eyed me with a sardonic raise of his eyebrow. "You'll catch on. Any minute now."

The penny dropped, and I felt my cheeks flame, and my mouth drop open. "That thunderfucking, cock-warbling son of a bitch!" I yelled, my harsh outburst met with Malfoy's amused laugh and applause.

"Well done, Granger. I didn't think you had it in you. The worst I ever got was _'loathsome cockroach'_."

"To your face, anyway," I muttered, still reeling from his admission. My uneasy feeling about Cormac made sense now. My thoughts turned immediately to Astoria. "Maybe you should you tell Astoria? Cormac isn't exactly a gentleman."

"Granger, did it seem to you that her intentions were any different than his?" Malfoy asked.

"That's not the point. Astoria may be a vacuous twat, but she still deserves to be treated with respect," I argued. "Imagine if you had a daughter one day. Would you want her just to be shagged and discarded?"

A crystal-clear image of a pretty little girl with white-blonde curls and golden brown eyes flashed fleetingly in my mind, and I gasped. _Where did that come from?_ I stared at Malfoy accusingly, but he wasn't looking at me. Instead, he was tapping out a message on his phone.

_Nope, that was just my ovaries. Lord, help me. I am losing my mind. _

Malfoy finished typing and placed his phone down on the table. He'd barely reached for his drink when his phone chimed. His eyes widened, and he laughed.

"Picture tells a thousand words, as they say." He handed the phone to me. Astoria had responded with a photo. It was very clearly the top of Cormac's head between her thighs.

"A simple _'I'm fine, now piss off' _would've sufficed." My nose wrinkled in disgust, handing the phone back to Malfoy. Watching him tuck his phone back into the pocket of his burgundy blazer, I felt suddenly shy. "Thanks for looking out for me."

He looked at me, his brow furrowed. "Of course. Did you think that because we broke up that I'd just stop caring?"

I shrugged. "I guess not. But I appreciate it."

Malfoy looked deeply into my eyes again, and I suddenly realised what was out of place - I didn't feel that same pull between us. Instantly, my head started running through all the possibilities as to why. Was it physical? Malfoy was still as ridiculously handsome as ever (I mean, what fucking _right _did he have to be so damned good-looking?) I was perhaps too thin - did he not find me attractive anymore? I pushed the thought out of mind; Malfoy wasn't as shallow as that.

Was it mental? We'd assumed our customary banter with ease, and I'd unabashedly enjoyed every minute of it. I considered his earlier demeanour when he'd first led me back to the table. He seemed so awkward, which was so unlike him.

It hit me. It was emotional. That maddening self-assuredness that I thought was an inherent trait was gone. Sure, he seemed happy enough and had been actively contributing to the group's conversations and antics. But his usual confidence that would exude out of him just wasn't there. He seemed like less of himself, like his light had gone out.

_Did I do that?_ The thought saddened me. I thrived on our chemistry. I recalled what he'd said to me the night we broke up: _I promise you. If this is meant for us someday, we'll find it again._

What if we couldn't find it? What if it was gone completely?

I looked up at his handsome face, the contours and angles so familiar to me that were no longer mine to touch. The eyes that had once looked upon me so adoringly seemed so distant. I ached to run my fingers through his flaxen hair, but I knew it wasn't my place anymore. My gaze dropped to the mouth that had pushed me to my limits, mentally and physically. My breath caught in my throat, and I abruptly stood up, knocking over several glasses in my haste.

"You alright?" Malfoy asked, a concerned look on his face as he rose from his seat. My breath was quickening, and I needed to get away from him. "Granger!"

I stumbled towards the bathroom, pushing past Ginny and Harry on the way. I heard them call out after me, but I didn't stop. I finally reached the bathroom and threw myself against the sink, splashing water on my face. I stared at my reflection, water dripping off my nose and chin, and willed my breath to be steady.

I'd loved Ron, but after our breakup, we'd hugged, and he left with a suitcase of his belongings. No fanfare, just a few tears and an immense sense of relief. It certainly hadn't rocked me like this, especially after several months apart.

Malfoy was it for me. I knew it in my soul. He was _it. _

The thought that I had lost my chance for happiness and fulfilment was too much to take, and a heaving sob escaped my throat. I was sliding to the floor when the bathroom door burst open, and a pair of arms caught me.

"We've got you, doll. We're here," Pansy whispered, her chin resting atop my head. Luna held me tightly on my other side, while Ginny knelt before me, her hands gripping mine.

"It's really over," I wept, the tears streaming freely from my eyes. "I've lost him. I've lost him."

My girlfriends remained silent, each of them moving to embrace me tighter while wrenching sobs wracked through me. The bathroom pulsed with the sound of the music outside; the heavy bassline pounding in time with the rhythmic breaking of my heart. The minutes went by, and Ginny slowly lifted my chin to look at me.

"Do you think you can stand?"

I nodded feebly. Pansy and Luna helped me to my feet, and Ginny poked her head out the door to summon my clutch. I rechecked my reflection – I looked fucking terrible.

"Let's get you home," Luna said as they guided me out of the bathroom. We kept to the outer wall of the club and eventually reached the entry hall. My stomach seized when I saw the boys standing at the entrance. Each of them looked worried.

"What happened? Mione, are you alright?" Harry took a step towards me but stopped when Pansy blocked him by placing her palm against his chest.

"No, no," she said simply. I looked past Pansy to Malfoy. His expression was pained, and he took a small step toward me. He paused, and the curtain came down behind his eyes and his face settled into his trademark cool, and he moved no further.

_He doesn't care anymore. _I clutched at Ginny's wrist.

"Get me out of here," I pleaded and immediately felt the rush of air as she apparated us to my apartment building. A pop behind us signalled Luna's arrival, but she was alone.

"Where's Pansy?" asked Ginny.

"She'll be along in a minute. She was just talking to Theo." Luna reached out for my hand, and the two of them steered me inside. The elevator ride and the short walk to my apartment door were made in silence, my chest aching from the spasmodic aftershocks of my distraught crying. Ginny fumbled with my apartment key.

"Fuck it," she said under her breath, withdrawing her wand and aiming it at the door. "_Bombarda –_

"_Alohomora_, Ginny, Jesus!" I cried. _Nice to know my perfectionism still works,_ I thought sullenly. Ginny laughed.

"I know, I'm kidding! _Alohomora!_" My door swung open, and they ushered me inside. Ginny headed for the kitchen while Luna guided me to my bathroom, turning my shower on. As the steam filled the bathroom, Luna flicked her wand towards the stream of water, and the scent of lavender permeated the air.

Walking to the door, Luna smiled at me. "We'll be right here when you get out."

* * *

As soon as I flopped down on the couch, Ginny thrust a giant mug of tea under my nose before sitting down beside me.

"You're wearing the Gryffindor sweats again! Wonderful." Pansy was perched in an armchair, clutching a glass of wine. Ginny had changed out of her white Misha Nonoo jumpsuit in favour of comfy sweats, but Pansy was still wearing her fitted black cocktail dress, although she had discarded her black Louboutins.

"Do you know how often I have dreamed of painting your toenails red and gold while you were sleeping, Pans?" Ginny teased with a grin.

"Do you know how swiftly I would defenestrate you if you did, Ginevra?" Pansy replied sweetly.

"I don't even know what that means."

"It requires an _arresto momentum _spell, Ginevra. That's all you need to know."

"It means to throw someone out of a window," I explained sombrely, which prompted Ginny to flip Pansy off. "You can practice on me."

"I've hurled Theo and Blaise out of a window so many times in my head that I've got it down to an art now," Pansy assured. "You're safe, Granger."

Luna strolled in from the other room, holding a cup of tea and the green lace dress she had discarded in favour of sweats. She sat cross-legged on the rug in front of the fire.

"What happened back there, Hermione?" she asked softly, clutching her tea.

"Just another epic meltdown over Malfoy. What else is new?" I replied wearily. "I'm sick of crying over that man, I really bloody am. I thought I was over this. I hadn't seen him in months, I've kept busy with work and training with you, Gin. I've been on dates. I thought I was okay."

"But…?" Ginny prompted.

"But I love him," I answered simply. Ginny stiffened slightly, but she remained silent. I took a deep breath in. The familiar heavy ache in my chest was back again. "I remember the night we ended things; we were standing right where you're sitting, Luna, and he said that if this were meant for us someday, we'd find it again. But tonight, Malfoy looked at me, and our chemistry was just gone. It broke my heart all over again."

Luna blew a stream of cool air across the top of her tea. "You seemed like you were getting along beautifully this evening."

"Right? Between Granger and Draco being downright respectful to one another, and Potter preventing Theo from making a nuisance of himself, I'm actually glad Greengrass and McLaggen slagged it up on the dancefloor. Otherwise, the evening would've been severely lacking," added Pansy.

"What did you expect to happen tonight, Hermione?" Ginny asked, too quietly.

"What do you mean?" I shifted awkwardly on the sofa. There was an edge to Ginny's voice that made me wary. Even Pansy and Luna eyed Ginny cautiously.

"Did you think you'd see each other after months apart and everything would just fall back into place?"

"I wasn't expecting anything -"

"Right. Because you're moving on, right? You told me that when we started training together. You also said it every time you went on a date. And then again, a few weeks ago when you told me you were bringing McLaggen. And yet -" Ginny gave a small wave of her hand. "- here we are."

"Gin -"

"No, I'm sorry, Hermione. You were in a relationship with my brother for _years,_ and when it ended, you seemed to recover overnight. I wonder what it is about Malfoy that has you so cut up after all this time?"

I was stunned. My relationship with Malfoy hadn't seemed to bother her before. She'd also never been angry with me until now. Ginny turned to face me, her dark eyes blazing.

"I'd like to know. What is it about Malfoy that has the great Hermione Granger all hot under the collar? Is it the bad boy thing? Are you trying to save his soul, Hermione? That under the tattoos is a poor, misunderstood Death Eater looking for salvation."

"Do not go there, Ginevra," Pansy warned, her blue eyes fixed on the red-headed woman.

"Oh, I forgot for a moment that I was in the presence of the Slytherin Queen. Best I leave that one alone." Ginny sneered. She wasn't done yet. "Perhaps it was the sex?"

"I am _not _answering that -" I stammered. _Where was this coming from?_

"It must be his money then. I mean, you have plenty of it yourself, but you can never have enough, I guess. I wouldn't know, my family were poor."

"How dare you, Ginny!" I cried. I felt my cheeks burning up, but for once, the familiar prick of tears behind my eyelids never came. Ginny stood and loomed over me.

"WHAT DOES MALFOY HAVE THAT RON DOESN'T?" Ginny shouted. The room fell silent but for the crackle of the fireplace. Ginny and I stared at each other for the longest time before anyone spoke.

"Finish your tea and go to bed, Mione," Luna said firmly. She was glaring at Ginny.

"I haven't said everything I need to say," Ginny retorted, not taking her eyes off me.

"You've said plenty." Pansy's voice was cold as ice as she vanished her wine glass. She slid her feet back into her heels and came to stand beside Ginny. "It's time for you to go home."

"You don't tell me what to do. I'm not finished here."

Pansy quirked an eyebrow at Ginny. "Yes, you are." Pansy exchanged a brief nod with Luna before grasping Ginny's arm a split second before apparating them out of the room.

"Well," Luna began, taking another sip of tea. "That was unexpected."

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes while my mind whirled, trying to process what had just happened. I couldn't recall a time when I'd ever argued with Ginny like that. Not even our argument over Harry's use of _Sectumsempra _all those years ago had escalated to that level. I had confided in her at the time that I was working through my issues with Ron. Ginny also had never outwardly shown any resentment about my relationship with Malfoy, until now.

"That was awful," I groaned from behind my hands. _Well understated, Hermione. _"I can't believe Ginny would say those things! I mean, where did it come from? Had she ever said anything to you?"

Luna shrugged. "She had her concerns about your relationship with Malfoy, given your history, but that's all."

"_'That's all'_?" I repeated. "Why didn't she say anything to me?"

"You're quite a stubborn woman, Hermione Granger. She didn't think you would have listened."

"I would so!" I responded instantly. Luna looked at me with a knowing, amused gaze and my mouth snapped closed sheepishly. "Withdrawn." I tipped my head back against the back of the couch and sighed. "This night really couldn't have gone much worse. I'm sorry for dragging you away from Blaise. I'm okay if you want to get back to him."

Luna shook her head with a small smile. "Oh, it's alright. I think he's probably with Malfoy, having a similar conversation."

I stared up at the ceiling. "You and Blaise make a beautiful couple. You seem so good together."

"We're happy."

"How do you manage that?" I said cynically.

Luna shrugged. "Because we don't rely on each other to make the other happy. Individually, we were happy on our own. When two contented people come together, there's not a lot of room for sadness because there's nothing to fix. Blaise is the first man I've met that hasn't tried to change me. He accepts me fully as I am. I didn't think I'd find that in my lifetime, but I think the best things happen when you're not looking for them."

"I'm so pleased for you, lovely. I really am."

"That's nice," Luna smiled. "I ship you and Malfoy, you know."

"Why?"

"Because I trust your judgement. If you see something in Malfoy worth caring about, I trust you." Luna shrugged and drained the last of her tea. "I think you've earned the right to do what makes you happy."

"But you heard Ginny tonight. If she's thinking all of that, surely other people are thinking it too. People still have such strong opinions about Malfoy. Am I a fool for just ignoring it?"

"People have strong opinions about me too. Did you ever consider not being my friend?" Luna asked sagely. I considered her question for a moment. Once I'd gotten past Luna's eccentricities, I'd found her to be brilliant, perceptive and wise beyond her years, and I'd become extremely fond of her. I certainly didn't care what anyone thought of our friendship. But the basis for people's opinions on Luna and Malfoy were glaringly different.

"If you'd levelled a wand at Dumbledore with the intent to kill him, I would've reconsidered our friendship," I answered. Luna's eyes grew suddenly sharp.

"I promise you, Hermione, if someone threatened my father and I thought it was the only way to save him, I'd level my wand at _you_." Her customary dreamy tone had evaporated, replaced by a fierce earnestness. "That war forced us to make grown-up decisions with young minds. We didn't always get it right, but we did our best."

Once again, Luna had demonstrated her unnerving ability to speak the uncomfortable truth. She had hit the nail squarely on the head, and I chewed absently on my thumbnail.

"What do I do about Ginny, though? She's never been so angry with me."

Luna's steely countenance softened as she assumed her usual wistful expression. "Ginny owes you an apology for some of the things she said, but she was acting out of a sister's love. Give her time. She'll come around."

"Can you please at least check on Ginny? I have a feeling that Pansy may actually toss her out of the window after the _'Slytherin Queen' _comment."

"I think Pansy would've loved that actually, but I'll check on them." Luna reached into her bag and drew out her cork necklace. "I have a feeling I'll need this."

* * *

After Luna left, I retired to bed, but I couldn't get Ginny out of my mind. I was hurt by what she'd said, but she was right on some level. I'd been _that girl,_ and Ginny had just laid out a poorly worded intervention. I also thought about Pansy had said months ago. If I wanted Malfoy, have him. Was it indeed that simple?

As far as I knew, the Project was over, which meant nothing was keeping us from going for it. But if Malfoy honestly didn't want me anymore, I needed to accept it and move on. As the thoughts swirled around the vortex of my mind, I realised that I'd let myself forget who I was. I was Hermione Jean Granger. I had helped Harry bring Voldemort down with research and studying. I had excelled throughout all of my schooling and my career by being knowledgeable and informed. But with Malfoy, I was in the dark. I'd overthought the shit out of our relationship without knowing how he felt or what he wanted. We'd danced around our feelings for one another, never actually coming out and saying what we felt. I flung the covers back.

Not anymore.


	28. Chapter 28: Draco

**Chapter 28: Draco**

_Three hours earlier:_

_"What did you do to her?" Potter advanced towards me with his jaw clenched in anger. Ginny had just disapparated with a distraught Granger clinging to her arm, Luna following them a moment later. _

_"I didn't do a fucking thing, Potter," I retorted, squaring my shoulders. "Funnily enough, I'm actually not the sole source of the world's misery."_

_"Why was she so bloody upset then? Hermione was perfectly fine when I left the table." Potter was standing nose to nose with me. We had attracted the attention of the burly security guard positioned outside the club door, who grunted in irritation and took a step towards us. Pansy tossed her hair over her shoulder and sashayed over to intercept the security guard. While she proceeded to charm him silly, I turned back to Potter._

_"I honestly don't know what happened. We were talking about McLaggen, and she had just thanked me for looking out for her. Next thing she's left the table like her arse was on fire. That was it."_

_The muscles in Potter's jaw rolled. "Right. Well, I should get over to her place. See if she really is okay." _

_Pansy rolled her eyes from where she had come to stand beside Blaise, her distraction tactics succeeding in sending the security guard back to his post. "No, I'll go. I think the presence of anyone with a penis would only be counter-productive."_

_Theo grinned irreverently. "Pansy Parkinson, my beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical. You know perfectly well that you have one of your own." _

_"I grow one at will, and next time I do, I'll ask you to suck it, Theodore," came Pansy's acerbic reply, which prompted a hearty laugh from Blaise._

_"Jesus Christ, Parkinson. Just go and see Hermione, please!" Potter cried, grabbing Theo's collar and shoving him out the door. Pansy winked and followed them, twin cracks of apparition signalling their departures. Blaise glanced at me. _

_"Come on, you miserable twat. We're going to your place, which, I might point out, I have never been invited to," he said, clapping an enormous hand on my shoulder. _

_"I'm fine, Blaise. You don't need to babysit me."_

_"I know I don't. You're babysitting me. My missus just took off and left me with you cocks, remember? And yes, that includes Pansy." _

* * *

Blaise's phone chimed with a message from Luna to say she'd returned home, and he practically dive-bombed into the Floo with a rushed farewell. Once alone, I took the chance to think. It had been hard to keep an emotional distance from Granger earlier, but I needed to for my sanity. I'd even resorted to _occlumency _tactics. I had fallen in love with Granger. The night we ended it, she said she'd felt something for me which had given me hope that we'd come back together. But the speed of which she'd moved on with her series of dates seemed a reliable indication that whatever she'd felt for me, it wasn't love.

I didn't know what I had said or done to make Granger bolt tonight. My first instinct had been to go after her, but my self-preservation had kicked in, and I'd stayed put. _She doesn't love you, _my head told me. But something about that statement didn't feel right, like a niggling finger pressing between my ribs that I couldn't ignore. Granger's eyes could never lie. They held a world of unspoken truths. There was a rueful sadness in them tonight, and the look she gave me before leaving with Ginny was giving me pause.

I stood up and paced around my living room. I'd been unsatisfied in my relationships, even before I'd gotten involved with Granger. Bringing Astoria tonight had been a disaster almost from the outset. Shallow and superficial. My relationship with Granger had been short-lived, but it had been the most significant relationship of my lifetime. I felt a sudden burst of irritation. I didn't want shallow and superficial anymore. I wanted a meaningful relationship with the woman who made me a better man. Fuck it. I wanted Granger.

What had I said to her the day she'd arrived in my office? I'm_ not in the business of letting other people make decisions for me._ It had been true ever since my father had allowed Voldemort to threaten my family. I didn't know if Granger wanted me anymore, but I'd be damned if I was going to die wondering. With a determination I hadn't felt in a while, I tossed the rest of my drink back and set the crystal tumbler on the coffee table. I snatched up my wand and pocketed it when came a sudden blaze of green from the fireplace.

Granger.

It took a moment for my brain to assimilate what I was seeing. She was here. Her mouth opened and closed several times, ostensibly trying to find something profound to say.

"Hey," is what she settled on.

"Please ease up on the sentiments, Granger. You're coming on too strong, and I'm feeling overwhelmed."

Her response was a girlish, breathy laugh that made me realise how much I'd missed her. "I didn't rehearse this. I made up my mind that I had to see you about seven and a half seconds before I got here."

It was then that I registered what she was wearing – leopard print satin shorts and a white tank top. And fuck all else. "Did you just make a mad dash from your bed to the Floo?"

She exhaled and closed her eyes. "I realised something tonight," she began, her eyes fluttering open. "You were right. I was a fucking idiot."

_That was unexpected. _

"I thought that I'd be okay with seeing you tonight," she continued. "For months now, I've been trying to convince myself that I could move on, and I've been driving the girls mad over the last few months with it, and probably Harry and Theo as well -"

"If you're driving Theo mad, I couldn't be happier, it serves him right, and I urge you to continue."

"Please, just let me get this out." Granger held up a hand. "I love my career, and I'm proud of it. But it's all I have, and it's not enough for me anymore. I want someone to share my life with. But it's also not enough just to have someone to come home to. I want someone who will push me and challenge me always to be better than I was because he knows it's what drives me. I want someone who'll whole-heartedly celebrate my successes with me because he knows that it doesn't overshadow his accomplishments. I want passion and excitement and spontaneity, and I want someone who will let me take the time to learn everything about him. His heart, his mind, his body and his soul."

Granger swallowed and took a tiny step forward.

"I want to care about someone who cares about me. I want to know his beliefs, his concerns, his thoughts. Maybe we would take our thoughts and use them to change the world into something amazing together. Or maybe we would just be amazing privately." A deep breath in. "I've missed you. I could never have imagined I would want you like this. I am completely in love with you, Draco."

"You're what now?" I stammered. My mouth was suddenly dry, and my heart was pounding.

"I'm in love with you," she repeated earnestly, her eyes fixed on me. Her chest rose and fell with breaths that seemed to quicken with every second that I failed to respond. Too many seconds later, Granger blinked rapidly, her face flushing and her hands wrung together. "Anyway, it's okay if you don't feel the same. I get it. I'm probably being foolish but -"

Before she could finish her sentence, I closed the distance between us and had her lips pressed hard against mine, my hands gripping the sides of her beautiful face to hold her to me. A strangled cry of relief escaped from her mouth, and her cool hands wrapped around my wrists.

"I love you, Granger," I whispered, breaking off the kiss momentarily. "I know I'm not the guy you thought you would want in your life, but I promise you, I will love you the best." I bent my forehead to hers. "We aren't going to get this right all the time. I will piss you off sometimes. Sometimes you'll get on my nerves, and I'll want to hate-fuck you into the mattress. I'll worship you for your mind, but I'll challenge the way you think every step of the way. That is us, and it's what brought us together, and I wouldn't give that up for the world because it's real, and it's honest. But you will also know every single day how much I love you, and I'll never stop trying to be the best man I can be for you."

Granger didn't respond with words. Instead, she kissed me intensely.

"I thought I'd lost you for good," she breathed against my mouth. Her hands dove into my hair, and I relished in the feeling of her nails scratching at my scalp. Letting her hands drop, she began to pull at the bottom of my shirt, tugging it up and over my head.

"Granger -" I murmured against her mouth. "- are you sure you don't want to ease back into this?"

She pulled away briefly, her eyes blazing. "Malfoy, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm going to need you just to shut up and put your dick in me."

I laughed, relieved to see her intrinsic fire roaring back to life, and gathered my witch up into my arms, her legs wrapping tightly around my waist. Carrying her through the apartment to my bedroom, I slipped the strap of her tank top off her shoulder and sucked a kiss into her creamy skin. Her strong legs squeezed me. I lowered her onto my bed and carefully settled myself between her legs. I paused to look at her, running my thumb across her petal-soft lips, trying to convince myself that she was really here.

"What's wrong?" Granger asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

"Aside from you wearing too many clothes, absolutely nothing is wrong," I answered, earning me a smack on the shoulder. I growled in response and kissed her deeply once again. Her hands roamed over my chest and shoulders as I dotted tiny kisses down her jaw to her neck. I tugged her tank top over her head and pushed her breasts together, laving one nipple while gently rolling the other between my thumb and forefinger. Her soft whimpers urged me on, her hips moving against me as she searched desperately for friction. I trailed my fingers down her torso, feeling the muscles in her stomach flex as my hand travelled lower. I brushed over her most sensitive area and was rewarded with her moan when I slipped a finger inside her. She was warm, tight and ready for me. I eased a second finger inside her, bringing my lips back to hers. Her tongue danced against mine, whimpering softly into my mouth. I slowly withdrew my fingers and shifted to slide her satin shorts down her legs. After dropping them to the floor, I laid on my back and pulled her on top of me. Sitting up with her legs straddling my thighs, Granger tugged my jeans and underwear over my hips. She stroked her hand up and down my cock while I kicked my jeans off, clumsy in my haste. I held her by the waist as she bit her lip and lowered herself on to my cock. The feeling was indescribable, and I had to hold her still and recount last quarter's budget figures to keep from instantly exploding inside her and embarrassing myself. When I had regained some control, I sat up and brought her face close to mine. Kissing her tenderly, I curled my hips and pushed up into her. She answered with a swivel of her hips, and I was lost. Granger's hands snaked into my hair once again while my hands traversed her creamy skin and sensual curves.

With each rotation of her hips, interspersed with moans and filthy words of encouragement, the world became smaller and smaller until it was reduced to nothing but the feel of her skin against mine and the soft air of her moans against my neck. Her skin glowed in the lamplight, and I felt the tips of her hair tickle my thighs when she tipped her head back in pleasure. Her movements became deeper and wilder, and her fingers were tight in my hair.

"More," she pleaded, wrapping her legs around my waist. I rolled her onto her back and pushed into her once again; my forehead bent to hers. Her nails dug into my back, and I hissed, telling her _yes _and _it's__ so good. _Her eyes clenched shut, and I felt her body wound tight beneath me, coiled for release.

"Let it go, Granger." I continued to thrust into her, again and again. Her back arched and her moans grew ragged and more desperate. "I want to feel you come apart." Reaching down between us, Granger's fingers found her clit, and she circled it slowly. I tilted my head to look down at her hand. "Fuck, you look so good when you touch yourself, Granger."

With that, her orgasm overtook her. Her body spasmed below me, and her hoarse scream echoed throughout my bedroom. I watched in awe as a beautiful flush spread across her cheeks and chest. As Granger surrendered to the aftershocks of her orgasm, she finally opened her eyes to look at me.

"I love you," she whispered, and fuck if it didn't undo me. My climax barrelled down my spine, and I came loudly, shuddering as I muffled my cries into her neck.

"I love you." I collapsed in a heap on top of her with an exhausted sigh, and Granger giggled. She traced tiny patterns up and down my back, and I could feel her heartbeat under my cheek. We lay in comfortable silence, her heartbeat almost back to its normal pace when Granger cleared her throat.

"Should we talk now, or can we cut the bullshit and just assume that I am now your girlfriend and that you're going to adore me forever?"

I lifted my head to look at her. "'_Adore' _may be premature. I'm reserving judgement until I know for sure that you're handy in the kitchen." _Resounding slap. "_Violence is never the answer, you know."

"Neither is blatant chauvinism while I'm _naked and in your bed!"_

"But I make sexism look good." _Another resounding slap. "_Stop slapping me, you cow."

Granger pushed me off her and flipped me onto my back, straddling me once again. Before I could make another move, she grabbed my wand off the bedside table.

"_Incarcerous!" _With my hands suddenly pinned to the headboard, Granger twisted my nipple. Hard. "Take it back," she demanded, but her mouth was twitching with a smile she was trying to hide.

"Not until you promise to use your words!" I yelped. She twisted harder. "Okay, _I take it back!"_

"And?" she prompted, her eyebrow arched and a full-blown grin on her face.

"I don't care if you're good in the kitchen!"

"That part, but what else?" This time, she reached for my other nipple and twisted it too. "Malfoy? Are you going to adore me forever or not?"

"I already do! Now for the love of fuck, let go!"

"Good boy," she crooned and released her iron grip on my nipples. While I lay there whining like a Labrador puppy, my hands still pinioned to my headboard, Granger tilted her head and eyed me contemplatively. "This has potential," she said, gesturing to my tied hands while grinning salaciously.

"You could enjoy yourself less, you know," I replied. I strained to look down at my chest. My nipples were already a fetching shade of violet. "They're bloody purple, you maniac! And is that – is that a _handprint_?"

"Ooh, is your father going to hear about this?" she taunted. "You know, if you leave the bruises to heal on their own, in a few days, they'll be a lovely Slytherin green." She cackled as I fixed her with a glare, and she released the invisible binds around my wrists. I rubbed at them absently as Granger leaned down to claim my mouth, the pain of my tortured nipples instantly forgotten. Her hair fell around me like a sweetly-scented curtain, and I tangled my fingers through her curls. Granger eventually slid her body to lay beside me, lamentably dragging the sheet up over her naked arse and propping up on her elbows.

"We should talk now," she said. "I'm not sure where to start."

"You said earlier that you thought you'd lost me for good," I prompted.

"Well, yeah," Granger replied. "As crazy as this sounds, since the day I walked into your office, I felt like we had chemistry. Like there was a pull between us. I think it's what had confused me the most. We hated each other at school, so how could it suddenly turn into something different after a few years?"

I had thought a lot about this since we met at my office that day and hadn't come up with any practical conclusion aside from this: maybe the universe had always intended for us to be together. Bullying Granger wasn't to distract from some misplaced affection towards her – I genuinely fucking resented her - but maybe it was her presence in my life that started me on my path towards forgiveness and redemption. Muggle-borns were supposed to be inferior, so how come she was as good as me, if not better, at magic? Perhaps it was my bullying that pushed Granger to work as hard as she did – she wanted to be better than me and prove me wrong.

Granger's eyes grew wider and wider as I relayed my theory, and at the end, she fixed me with a ball-shrivelling glare. I felt a sudden compulsion to protect my crotch.

"Draco Malfoy, you abhorrent little toadstool, are you suggesting that the only reason I was able to take twelve classes in the Third year, achieve ten OWLs in Fifth year, hunt horcruxes and help Harry take down Voldemort, then return for my Seventh year and achieve seven NEWTs, go on to graduate law school first class, then become the first female Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, _and _the youngest Ministry Department head _in history_, was because of your appalling and unmerited blood prejudices and mistreatment?"

"I may have thought that at the beginning and honestly, it sounded better in my head. I see now how very wrong I was, and I'll_ ask you not to punch me again!"_ I cried, holding up a pillow to protect myself from the Granger monster that launched itself at me. I wrapped my arms tightly around her and twisted so she was flat on her back on the mattress before she could land any blows. Granger was still protesting when I crushed my mouth to hers, but she soon stopped resisting, a giggle erupting from her lips instead. When I felt her fully relax underneath me and respond to my kiss, I released my firm hold around her. "I didn't mean to undermine your achievements, Granger. You're amazing, you always have been, and it has nothing at all to do with me. I'm sorry."

She pushed lightly against my chest, and I eased off her. "You weren't totally wrong. It hurt when you called me mu - that word, and I did want to show you, and everyone who thought like you, that you were wrong. But I've always been a highly motivated individual, even before I met you. I work hard because I enjoy the feeling of achievement and success." She grinned. "Sticking it up to the likes of you was the icing on the cake, really." She leaned up to press a kiss to the tip of my nose then wriggled suggestively. "You should stick it up to the likes of me now."

"Oh, you asked for it, woman."

* * *

The nights that followed were a blur as Granger and I wasted no time in making up for the months we were apart. During the day, I was back to my best at the office – I signed an incredibly lucrative business deal and earned significant returns on another. I felt the best that I had in a long time.

Theo stopped by my office on Friday afternoon as I was packing up my desk for the weekend. "I heard the good news. You got the Huang deal over the line."

"Yeah. Once they understood the terms, they were fine. Done and dusted," I replied. "How'd your meeting go today?"

"Seems solid," he answered with a shrug. "I told them we'd catch up late next week."

"Nice, man." I closed the lid of my laptop and smiled. With a tilt of his head, Theo narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"You know, you've become almost likeable since you got back together with Granger."

"And?"

He smirked. "And nothing. I'm happy for you, Draco. She's a good girl."

"Yeah, she is," I agreed. "She's too good for me."

"Now _that_ we can both agree on."

We chatted for a while longer and made plans to catch up the following morning for a round of golf. When Theo left my office, I crossed the room and entered the Floo. I arrived back into my living room to see Granger wearing one of my white business shirts and an alluring smile on her lips. She held out a glass of red wine to me.

I swallowed and took a step towards her, accepting the glass from her outstretched hand. "Granger? What are you wearing under that shirt?"

"Nothing but the Holy Ghost."

And with that, I took my limited knowledge of religion and dedicated the remainder of the evening to worshipping Hermione Granger's skin and delivering her to rapture.

* * *

"_Fore right!"_

I was still two shots behind Theo on the last hole, and the golf gods were not on my side as my ball landed in the sand trap. I released another frustration yell into the air when a deep, throaty voice boomed from behind us.

"Keep your elbow tucked on your backswing, and watch your grip," Shacklebolt advised, strolling up the fairway towards us.

I laughed amiably. "Where were you 18 holes ago?" We observed in silence as Theo lined up his shot. The ball arced gracefully through the air, landing with a faint thud on the distant green, and Theo turned to us with a smug grin. Shacklebolt raised his eyebrows approvingly.

"I'd like to chalk Theo's skills up to enchanted golf clubs, but in actuality, he's just really bloody good at golf," I said to Shacklebolt.

"What can I say? I'm good with a stick," Theo called, holding up the club with both hands. "See how my hands fit perfectly around the shaft?"

Shacklebolt regarded me questioningly, and I shook my head. "It's better for the purity of your mind if you don't ask."

"I found you here for a reason, gentlemen," said Shacklebolt, walking in the direction of the clubrooms. "Come and find me when you're done."

Twenty minutes later, we joined Shacklebolt at a table under a green umbrella, overlooking the stately golf course.

"What did you need, Kingsley?"

"By now, you will have heard that there is a virus that is currently affecting China. The Muggle Prime Minister is concerned that should the Chinese government fail to contain the virus, it will spread across the globe. Experts predict that the effects of a pandemic of that magnitude would be hitherto unseen since the plague."

I snorted. "Seems unlikely."

Shacklebolt made a vague gesture meant to indicate that he, too, was unconvinced, and then continued. The Muggle government wanted the Wizarding World's input into researching, developing and producing a vaccine, and Shacklebolt was calling on our involvement once again. He outlined the predicted costs of this new virus. The potential effects on the public healthcare system, the economy and the number of people expected to become ill or die from the virus were hard to believe, but the possibility alone was compelling.

"You wouldn't need the funding for this, though," Theo interjected.

"No, I'm not coming to you for capital this time. I'm coming to you because I'm offering you an opportunity to be a part of history once again. The last project was important, and we did excellent work that changed a lot of lives. But this time around, the enemy is much, much quicker. He has already raised his head. He's started taking lives in China, and it may only be a matter of time before he begins taking them in the United Kingdom." He set his drink down and looked at Theo and me with a steely earnestness. "You said that you wanted to be on the right side of something for once. This is your chance to fight for the Light side on something of global importance. Except this time, we'd be fighting a virus. Not Voldemort."

Theo was chewing on the inside of his mouth, pensively. He's_ considering this. _

"The both of you were vital to the overall success of the Ministry on the Healer's Project, and this would be an extension of that." Shacklebolt paused and looked directly at me. "I'm going to ask Miss Granger to come back on board as well. Do you foresee a problem with the two of you working together once again?"

Going back to work on a Ministry project would mean our relationship would once again be against Ministry policies. But if the war taught us anything, it was that human lives should be protected at all costs. Was it selfish to consider turning down the opportunity to do something for the greater good?

I opened my mouth to speak but was interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket. Glancing down, I saw that it was my mother. I silenced the call and returned my attention to Shacklebolt. Immediately my phone buzzed again. I excused myself and walked away from the table.

"Hey Mum, can I call you back? I'm just in the -" I was cut off by the sound of my mother sobbing on the other end of the line. "Mum, what's wrong?"

"Oh, honey, it's your father."


	29. Chapter 29: Hermione

**Chapter 29: Hermione**

An altar had been erected in one of the gardens at Malfoy Manor, and a gleaming black coffin decorated with silver serpents sat upon a marble stand. The coffin was draped with a green silk cloth bearing the Malfoy family crest.

It had been the shock of Draco's lifetime when he received a desperate call from his mother. His father, Lucius, had suffered a major heart attack and had been rushed to St. Mungo's. Draco had immediately hurried to his father's bedside, but Lucius had suffered a second cardiac arrest, this time fatal.

"What does 's_anctimonia vincet semper' _mean?" I asked. Blaise craned his neck to look out the window from where he lounged in a high-backed armchair.

"It means '_purity will always conquer'_," he answered, a wry smirk on his face. "Until it doesn't."

From our vantage point in an upstairs sitting room that overlooked the garden, I could see that there were far fewer people congregated than I expected. When I remarked upon this to Pansy, she answered matter-of-factly. "Lucius Malfoy had no living relatives beside Draco and Narcissa, and most of his friends were Death Eaters - they're either dead or imprisoned. Honestly, I'm surprised there's even this many here."

Theo came to stand beside us, nudging Pansy and motioning out the window to a stern-faced older gentleman and a lady in a monstrous hat, her face obscured by thick black netting. Pansy groaned loudly. "My parents," she explained to me.

Theo tilted his head, his brow knitted in confusion. "Why is your mother wearing a veil?"

"Skin tightening charm gone wrong. She was trying for youthful. Instead, she looks like a melted rubber glove." A giggle bubbled up from her throat. "It's hilarious."

"You sent Blaise and I these suits for today for the sole reason that you believed we'd suddenly ignore all sartorial discernment and wear _polyester_ -"

"As if we'd disrespect Draco, and ourselves, like that," Blaise cut in.

"- yet you allowed your mother to look as though she got lost on her way to a gothic apiarist convention," Theo observed.

"Is there a question in there, Theodore?"

"I'm just saying, your loyalties as a Sacred Twenty Eight daughter are wholly misplaced, and on behalf of Blaise and our wardrobes, we adore you for it."

Pansy and Blaise snickered, and we turned at the sound of Draco entering the room. He'd been speaking with his mother and the officiant, and he looked weary but still handsome as ever, in his black Tom Ford suit.

Pansy, Theo and Blaise crowded around Draco, offering tight hugs and murmurs of support. I hung back, feeling suddenly insecure like I didn't belong there. The four of them had known each other practically since birth. They had lived a whole life with Draco, and they knew the complexity of his relationship with his father better than I could ever fathom. I tried to tamp down my juvenile feeling, feeling instantly selfish. _This is not about you today, you self-centred twit._

"You ready?" asked Theo, sympathy clouding his usual jovial features.

"In a moment. I just need my lady for a minute." Draco looked to where I stood awkwardly by the window. My insecurities withered slightly, and I crossed the room to him, tucking myself under his arm when he reached for me. He kissed me chastely on the lips, prompting a good-natured gagging sound from Pansy.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" he murmured. Blaise, Theo and Pansy nodded and walked out of the room. Draco looked back down at me. "You'll walk in with Pansy, alright? But I want you sitting with me."

I shook my head fervently. "No, Draco, it's not right. It's your father's funeral, and he hated me. It's disrespectful to him by sitting up front and centre. No, I'll sit at the rear."

"We can talk about what I'd like to do to your rear later," he replied, taking my chin in his hand and staring into my eyes intently. "Listen to me. I'm yours. My father would have had to get used to it if he were alive, so he, and every other fucker out there who thought like him, can deal with it now. You will walk in with Pansy, and you will sit with me and my mother, understood?"

I wanted to protest. It was against my better judgement to go along with it. Nor did I particularly love being told what do. But if this is what Draco needed from me today, then I'd go with it. _Just for today. _I leaned up and kissed him lightly. "Don't fucking tell me what to do." He rewarded me with a smile and a small chuckle, and he held the door open for me.

Walking hand in hand, we joined his mother and the others in the drawing-room, with the garden just beyond. I was nervous at the prospect of being in a room with a great many people that had once wanted me dead. Pansy tucked my arm in hers, her black-gloved hands grasping mine as we followed Blaise and Theo through the large French doors and into the garden. I could hear the hushed murmurs of the crowd as they registered who I was.

_"_Dirty mudblood!" came one harsh whisper. "What a disgrace."

Quick as a whip, Pansy drew her wand from seemingly nowhere and aimed it at the offender's temple. _"Stupefy," _she whispered, and the man slumped down in his seat. Several horrified gasps rang out from the congregation, and Pansy looked around. "Any questions?" she asked loudly. A wide-eyed, shocked silence followed, and we continued down the aisle without another word. Pansy led us to our seats in the front row and then turned to glare at the crowd accusingly, daring anybody to say something else. Pansy sat between Theo and Blaise, both of them acknowledging her with an approving nod.

There was a shuffle as the guests rose from their seats to await the arrival of Lucius's widow and their only child. Narcissa walked slowly on the arm of her son, her posture rigid, and her chest was held high. I could see her nails digging into Draco's arm, and as she came closer, I saw her chin quivering. Draco and his mother were so similar in the way they carried themselves, from the unyielding line of their shoulders to the proud lift of their chins. Draco guided his mother to her seat, and the officiant raised his wand to the side of his neck.

"Please be seated."

* * *

I'd attended far too many funerals for a woman of my age, but this service was one of the most surreal. Draco was oddly detached during his eulogy, beginning with a series of generic facts and details that he delivered mechanically, as though he wasn't sharing a tribute to a man he once idolised but rather was reciting a bunch of words from a page about a stranger.

"- But one's life cannot be measured by the simple facts of his existence. My father was a very proud man; never one to falter in public. He was an avid collector of wizarding artefacts and books. He was a highly skilled wizard, a committed son, an ever-loving husband, and a good – a good father," Draco said, the first signs of emotion causing him to trip over his words. "Lucius Malfoy was a man that was easy to dislike but almost impossible not to revere. He was well-respected among his peers for his dedication to wizarding excellence." Draco paused, staring down at the lectern with a frown. He looked in our direction, and I sensed Theo's encouraging nod in my periphery. Draco cleared his throat and continued.

"This dedication came at a price. His allegiance to Lord Voldemort cost him dearly." There was a ripple of hushed murmurs from the crowd.

"Where is he going with this?" whispered Pansy out the side of her mouth. I shrugged; Draco hadn't shared his speech with me.

"My father was a leader among the Death Eaters, and his loyalty may have won him the admiration of Voldemort's other followers, but it ultimately compromised his sanity. It cost him his pride, and for a while, he lost the thing he treasured the most – the respect of his family."

"Damn, son," I heard Blaise murmur.

Draco paused, his eyes scanning the crowd defiantly, only softening when they fell on his mother.

"There was one thing in Father's life that he cherished more than power, pride and supremacy - my mother. Everything Father did was for her. Even when their futures looked bleak, they were partners, and that was always worth fighting for. Mother never gave up on him. I know a little about that now." Draco's eyes found mine, and I inhaled a sharp breath. "I can't say with any real confidence that my father ever fully abandoned his beliefs, but my mother demanded better from him, and she was the one thing he was not prepared to lose. Father and I didn't always see eye-to-eye, and I had hoped that one day we could become close again. My only consolation in this time of immense grief is that Mother and I were with him when he passed. Despite our differences, he was still my father, and I did love him. He taught me a few things that I strive to remember: Be brave, confident and strong in your convictions, always be the best I can be, and listen to your mother because she is always right."

Narcissa gave a small chuckle, her ice-blue eyes glistening with tears and a sad smile on her lips.

"Anybody who knows me well would recognise that I've taken these lessons with me into adulthood." Draco's rigid posture began to falter, and he turned to face the coffin. "You taught me a lot about life and what it takes to be a good man. I know I let you down sometimes, Father, but I also hope that somewhere along the way, I made you proud. Be at peace now. I'll take care of Mum for you."

* * *

An hour later, the funeral had concluded, and with Draco occupied by mourners, each sharing their tales of the late, great Lucius Malfoy, the rest of us claimed a small table in the corner of the Manor's vast ballroom. The atmosphere was tense, which I sensed was more to do with my presence than anything. I faced the room, my back to the corner. I tried hard not to be affected by the glares and sneers from some of the other guests but felt myself shrinking further and further into my seat. The scar on my left forearm was vibrating with phantom tingles, a visceral reaction to not only being at the Manor but surrounded by so many people who once wanted me dead. I laughed inwardly and without mirth. _Christ, is this how Harry felt? _Pansy looked down to where I had impulsively covered my forearm.

"Hey," she said, reaching over to remove my hand. "You've got nothing to be afraid of. Everybody here knows that you're here with Draco, and no one would dare hurt you while he's around."

"Or us, for that matter," added Blaise.

"As archaic and outdated as most Sacred Twenty Eight customs and traditions are, it would be considered in abysmal taste to knock off the girlfriend of the Malfoy heir," Theo mused. "And the one thing that those born to the purple simply will not do is display bad manners."

A figure emerging from the crowd caught Pansy's attention, and her face fell. "Oh, bloody hell." She plastered a fake smile on her face and walked around the table towards the woman approaching us. "Mother dearest…"

"I'll admit, since becoming friends with Pansy, I've been curious as to what her mother is like," I said, watching with amused curiosity at the stunted interaction between the Parkinson women.

Blaise shook his head. "I'm not convinced that Pansy didn't just spawn. I think she's too self-possessed and independent to allow herself to rely on another person for survival and nourishment. Especially not someone like Yolanda."

Theo nodded. "I agree. Pansy can't stand her mother. She would despise the notion of being inside that woman's body for nine months."

"There'd have been a constant monologue about the dire state of her mother's womb and its lack of basic accoutrements, and the oppressive nature of Yolanda's internal organs being so close to her person," Blaise added, and I began laughing.

"And could you imagine Pansy's reaction to the exit strategy?" Theo said.

"'_I have to come out of where, nose-down and facing my mother's what_?'" Blaise exclaimed in a high-pitched imitation of Pansy.

"Exactly. She'd have rejected the whole idea based on it being completely uncouth." Theo tipped his drink in Blaise's direction. "I think Pansy just appeared in a blizzard one day. Fully formed with perfect brows and a permanent judgey face."

We were too busy laughing that I didn't notice someone approach us from the side.

"Laughing at a funeral? That's pretty poor form, don't you think?" drawled a familiar voice above me. I gazed up into Draco's face, fixed into his trademark smirk.

"Where do you think Pansy came from?" I asked him, still giggling.

"She was brought from Romania in an egg by a Weasley," he answered without hesitation, holding out his hand and pulling me to my feet. "Come on. I need to get out of here for a while."

Theo hooted and raised his glass. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached new depths of depravity: sneaking away from the funeral of one's father for clandestine sexual congress."

Blaise shook his head with mock disapproval. "Really, Draco, that's such a Theo move."

"I am not sneaking – fuck it, never mind." Draco tugged my hand, leading me through a side door. He guided me through a maze of rooms and up a marble staircase until I'd lost all sense of direction. We came to a set of double doors. A gleaming pair of silver serpents flanked an engraved silver plaque: _DLM. _Pushing open one of the massive black doors, Draco led me inside.

I stared in awe at his childhood bedroom - it was larger than my parent's entire house. A gigantic four-poster bed with emerald green bedding stood against one ivory coloured wall, flanked by floor to ceiling windows with heavy black drapes. A set of black French doors that opened out to a private balcony, where sat a wrought-iron table and two chairs. Opposite his bed were two more doors, and a roaring fireplace. Just beyond, I could see a separate room. Peeking in, I saw that it contained an enormous mahogany desk, and a seating area with two black Chesterfield sofas, an armchair and a coffee table on an ornate rug. Rows of bookshelves lined the walls, save for two more black-draped full-length windows.

I forced my mouth to close and turned to face Draco. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his suit jacket discarded beside him. His elbows rested on his knees.

"Well, this place is a hovel," I stated drily. "No wonder you were such a little prick when you were younger. I had no idea you lived in such paltry conditions."

"It was rough, but I made it work," he replied, equally droll. He held out his hand to me, pulling me to stand between his legs and resting his forehead against my stomach. He exhaled loudly, and I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Stupid question but are you okay?" I asked. Draco's fingers were tracing small circles on the backs on my thighs, and he murmured a muffled sound against the fabric of my dress. He turned his face up to look at me, his eyes still a barren expanse of grey sea.

"Thank you for being here," he said. I bent down to kiss him, taking his face in my hands.

"And I'm not going anywhere," I assured him, and Draco smiled gratefully. He laid back on his bed and patted the mattress beside him.

"Come and lay here with me for a bit."

I put my hands on my hips. "I am not having sex with you on your childhood bed, at your father's funeral, with _your mother downstairs,_" I hissed indignantly. Draco propped up on his elbows.

"Can't a bloke just have a cuddle without progressing to sex?" he huffed, then flopped back down on his bed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like _get your head out of the bloody gutter, woman, I'm not an object. _I giggled and kicked off my heels, then crawled up onto the bed beside him. He instantly curled toward me, tucking my legs between his and bringing his face near to mine. Draco closed his eyes, his dark lashes fanned softly against his cheek, and I traced my finger across the contours of his face.

"Your eulogy was nice," I murmured.

He hummed in response. "It was probably harsher than most people were expecting, but I just didn't have it in me to stand in front of those people and pretend like I still agreed with everything he stood for." He opened his eyes. "Especially not in front of you," he murmured, his eyelids fluttering closed again.

"You said he taught you how to be a good man," I said, running my finger down the bridge of his nose. I remembered wanting to do precisely this at the club the night of the cocktail party, feeling destroyed at the thought that I wouldn't ever get the chance to. Despite the unreal situation I presently found myself in – on Draco Malfoy's bed, at his family home, at his father's funeral – I had to work hard to suppress a giddy smile from splitting my face.

Draco's voice stirred me from my thoughts. "He did, by being an example of what the worst man in the world does. Lie, bribe, exploit, harm, kill -"

I placed a finger over his lips, permitting myself a small smile. I didn't want Draco to get too caught up in the choices his father made that had put him in varying degrees of danger. There was still so much for me to learn about Draco, but I knew in my heart that we were in it for the long haul. My heart swelled, and I leaned forward to press a light kiss to his lips. His eyes fluttered open, and it thrilled me to see a little life in them.

"What was that for?" he asked softly. I shrugged.

"I'd just been thinking -"

"Mmhm, I could hear it."

"- shut up, and I realised that you weren't a particularly nice little boy, but you are a good man now. And I get to kiss you whenever I like, so I did. Is that okay?"

Draco closed his eyes again, and shifted closer to me, a faint smile on his lips. "That's fine, Granger."

"Good, because I'm about to do it again." I held it longer this time, but it was Draco who deepened the kiss. His tongue teased at my bottom lip until I opened my mouth to let him in. His hand snaked around my waist, and he pulled my body flush against his. Draco's hand travelled down my hip to hitch my dress up my thigh before rolling me onto my back and settling himself on top of me. His fingers had just begun to trace the lace edge of my panties when a loud, insistent knock at the door interrupted us.

"Draco? Your mother is looking for you, so I suggest you roll that thing back up and make yourself decent," came Pansy's voice on the other side of the door. With an exasperated sigh, Draco pushed himself off the bed. I stood before him and straightened his tie.

"That's not what I need help with," he said, looking down pointedly. He was in no state to hold a polite conversation with his mother.

"Oh, right. Uh, Slughorn's sagging balls, being fondled and gargled by Flitwick in a thong," I blurted out in a rush. Draco stared at me, horrified.

"Well, it fucking worked, but did you need to go that hard?" He shrugged on his jacket and sauntered towards the door, throwing another appalled look over his shoulder at me. He opened the door to find Pansy, Theo and Blaise waiting. Pansy raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sneaking off for sex at your own father's funeral? Such a Theo move," she chided with a tsk.

"I was not sneaking – fuck it, never mind," Draco brushed past them and headed down the hallway. Pansy laughed then moved past me into the adjoining study, Theo and Blaise following behind. Theo immediately made for one of the bookshelves and proceeded to tap at several of the books.

"Behind the Tolstoy," called Blaise, from where he had sprawled out on one of the sofas.

"No, that's where Draco keeps that awful Mexican shit he likes. He keeps the good stuff behind the Dumas," Pansy replied. Theo turned and found the book he was looking for. Giving the book a tap revealed a small concealed cabinet. Theo extracted a large bottle from the cabinet and levitated it to the coffee table where Blaise had already conjured five crystal tumblers.

Once each glass had been suitably overfilled, as seemed to be Theo's M.O, Blaise raised his glass. "To Lucius. _Reposi in pace, _you miserable old twat."

"And if you happen to see my father in Hell, tell him I said go fuck yourself," added Theo.

"Ask him to save a seat for my mother, please," Pansy chimed in.

Draco returned from talking to his mother after about an hour to find us already well-imbibed. I was leaning against Blaise, and Draco peered down at us with an amused expression.

"Hello, my son," Blaise reached up to pat Draco's chest, and I handed him my glass with a drunken smile. "We've been drinking."

As his eyes met mine, Draco's amusement changed briefly to a look far more potent, heavy with meaning that my drunk arse couldn't interpret. He stroked my cheek. "Looks like I've got some catching up to do," he said softly. He accepted the glass and downed it without hesitation, holding out the glass to Pansy, who refilled it with a lazy wave of her wand.

* * *

The hour was late when Narcissa entered Draco's study to find five young adults passed out; the empty decanters and crystal glasses scattered across the coffee table and desk as evidence of their intoxication. She chuckled to herself as she surveyed the usual suspects in the room.

The raven-haired beauty, asleep in an armchair. On the floor was a wiry, dark-haired young man sprawled out on his back, a glass teetering precariously in his hand. A breathtakingly handsome man with skin like burnt toffee was sleeping on the sofa.

Narcissa poured herself a drink and swallowed it quickly, observing with satisfied amusement her pale-haired son with his arms wrapped tightly around the small frame of a pretty witch, his nose buried in her wild curls. _Do you see that, Lucius? She's not going anywhere. Best you get used to it, my darling._

* * *

The Saturday after the funeral was a bright, sunny day, and I was meeting the girls for brunch as usual. I had spoken to Ginny briefly at the marathon, but she'd run it on her own and, after the race, left without waiting for me. I refused to let our relationship dissolve and had arranged to meet at her place before brunch. I stepped hesitantly through the Floo, apprehensive about Ginny's reaction. She was sitting on her couch with her laptop open. She barely acknowledged me and continued to tap away at the keyboard.

"Gin?" I ventured.

"What?" she replied sullenly, her eyes flickering to me tentatively. This Ginny, I knew. This wasn't angry Ginny; this was embarrassed Ginny. It softened me immediately.

"Gin," I repeated.

"I said 'what'." This time, she turned her face towards me.

"No, I meant 'gin', as in '_it's been an extremely stressful week, I need gin, have you got any?'_" I answered.

She gave a small chuckle. "I heard about Lucius. I hope Malfoy's okay."

"Do you?" I asked pointedly. Ginny looked away.

"I was an arsehole," she admitted. I told her that I didn't disagree. She went on to apologise, saying that she didn't dislike Draco but, as Ron's sister, it was hard to hear that I was so caught up in a man that wasn't her brother. "But I should've just talked to you about it, instead of yelling at you the way I did. Can you forgive me?"

By this time, I was sitting on the couch with her. "You said some pretty shitty things, Gin. You called me a slut and a gold-digger."

She nodded. "I did, and I'm sorry. I won't lie and say that I didn't mean those things, because, in the heat of the moment, I meant every word. But I was wrong for thinking them. Of course, you're not a gold-digger, and, well, look at you." She gestured to me with a sweep of her hand. "You're the last one in our group that anyone would consider slutty."

I didn't know whether to feel relieved or offended by the comment, but then the cogs in my head began turning. "Well, if I'm _so obviously _not the slutty one in the group, who is?"

Ginny laughed, standing up. "I'm not answering that. For all I know, the bitch will somehow overhear it and threaten deforestation again, or whatever the fuck it was." Pulling me to stand, Ginny wrapped me in a hug. "I am so sorry, Hermione. I love you like a sister, and I want you to be happy. If that means you choose Malfoy, then it is what it is. I don't necessarily understand your reasons why, and it might take me some time, but I'll get used to it."

I squeezed her. "Thank you, Ginny. I love you. Even though it didn't work out with Ron, you're still my family." We stood holding each other for a few more moments before our phones simultaneously dinged several times. It was Pansy, sending thirteen separate messages.

_If._

_You._

_Two._

_Are._

_Done._

_Talking._

_Some._

_Of. _

_Us._

_Have._

_Places._

_To._

_Be. _

"Come on," Ginny said. "The Slytherin Queen awaits."

"How did she respond to that, by the way?"

Ginny scoffed. "Please, Mione. It's Pansy. You know she loved that."

* * *

_**A/N: I've mapped out a plan for the final few chapters. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with my story. Please review, I love reading them.**_

_**As always, stay safe and well wherever you may be in the world. Xx**_


	30. Chapter 30: Draco

**Chapter 30: Draco**

Life had become almost a parallel universe. One where Lucius Malfoy was no longer alive, most of the world was locked down in the midst of a global pandemic and had taken to communicating via music from balconies, and Hermione Granger was my girlfriend.

That last one was undoubtedly my favourite part. We'd only officially been a couple for a few weeks, but it felt like forever. We had slipped easily into a comfortable routine which sounded horrifying to some, but I felt secure and content for the first time in my life. Yes, Granger was prone to sleep-talking and was a relentless blanket hog. Still, her unerring support of my mother and me in the days since my father's death had been amazing, and now the sight of her first thing in the morning, whether in my bed or hers, was fast becoming the best part of every day.

It was Monday morning, and Granger had stayed over at my place again the previous night. I'd summoned two steaming cups of coffee – I took mine black, she preferred to desecrate hers with milk and sugar – and left hers on the bedside table. I sipped mine while observing her from by the window. The sun was just coming up, and it cast a warm glow over the room. I stood in blissful calm for a few moments, before an object on the floor by the bed caught my attention. With a smirk, I used my wand to levitate it off the ground and into one of the drawers in my wardrobe. Granger stretched, her body moving languorously beneath the white sheets. A slow smile spread over her face when she spotted me watching her unabashed, and she held the sheet to her chest as she sat up.

"Morning," she murmured sleepily, running her fingers through her tangled mess of curls.

"Good morning, beautiful," I replied, gesturing with a jut of my chin toward the bedside table. "Your coffee is beside you."

"Oh, bless you, you wonderful, wonderful boy," she answered gratefully, turning to reach for the cup. She took a large swallow and exhaled a satisfied sighed, tipping her head back with her eyes closed. "I love that you bring me coffee in the mornings."

"Well, I have an ulterior motive," I said, coming to sit beside her on the bed. "You are an absolute beast in the morning until you have your coffee. Giving you caffeine works for both of us."

She shot me a dirty look. "I'll think of something to say once I've finished this," she said, her words mumbled into her cup. Granger drained her cup in record time and placed it in my outstretched hand. I vanished them both and stood up.

"You coming to have a shower?" I asked her. Granger shook her head and shuffled to the edge of the bed to stand up. The sheet covering her naked body fell enticingly, and I drew in a sharp breath, but Granger was seemingly oblivious.

"No, I need to get going and get ready for work." She pressed up onto her toes to kiss me and then wandered over to the armchair in the corner of my room, where she had deposited our clothes from last night. She filed through them, frowning. "Where are my knickers?"

I remained silent, a smug grin on my face. The knickers in question were burning a hole in one of the drawers in my wardrobe. She fixed me with a stern look, and we engaged in a silent staring game before she eventually broke her gaze.

"Fine. Continue hoarding them, like a cretin. See if I care," she mumbled, shrugging my pale blue business shirt over her head, and charming her clothes and shoes into her magically expanding bag.

"What was that, my under-caffeinated dream?" I said, walking toward her. "Do you want to give me shower head? If you insist." I gathered her in my arms and braced for the customary smack that surprisingly never came. Instead, she reached up to kiss me again. I kissed her back. The notion that I had found the woman of my dreams and she was here, with me, in my apartment, wearing nothing but my shirt, had me silently praising every unknown deity. Reaching down, I lightly squeezed her arse through my shirt. "Will I see you tonight?" I asked, murmuring against her lips.

"Of course. Here, or my place?" she replied, pulling back to brush my hair out of my eyes, still mussed from sleep. I placed a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Yours. Your fridge is better stocked than mine."

Granger laughed melodically, tipping her head back. "Who says romance is dead?" She kissed me once more and wished me a good day at work, before gliding out of the room. I waited for the tell-tale sound of the Floo before I walked toward my bathroom to shower.

While in the shower, it occurred to me that I hadn't heard any more from Shacklebolt about the new taskforce for the pandemic since we spoke at the golf course. _Odd, _I thought with a frown. Understandable that he wouldn't have contacted me given the circumstances with my father's passing, but Shacklebolt had said that he was inviting Granger to come back on board. I wondered if he'd mentioned anything to her, and if so, why hadn't she said anything?

It was a painful knot in my stomach. I had Granger, and even though it was still the early stages, I was all in with her. I was Grangers, wholly and solely. But being with her meant that my participation in any Ministry project was off-limits. Once upon a time, it would've been an easy decision to make. Take what I want, fuck the consequences. To be blatantly selfish is what the old me would have done. Choosing Granger was still an easy choice. But the devastation that this pandemic was predicted to have on the world was giving me pause. Granger was selfless by nature and lived her life by going from one right thing to the next. Choosing to save the world over our relationship would be a no-brainer for her. My gut roiled, and I decided instantly that I was not too fond of the way that felt.

I swiped my wet hair out of my eyes and closed my eyes under the hot shower stream. _What was the point of doing the hard yards all these years to prove that I had changed and that I wasn't my father's son if I was just going to undo it all now? _I had to consider the possibility that if I chose Granger over a moral obligation to help protect the world, would she even want me anymore?

I had an impossible choice to make. Save the world and redeem myself, or fuck the world and be happy with the woman I love. There had to be a way to navigate this where I didn't lose both.

I emerged from my steamy bathroom with a towel wrapped around my hips and stepped into my wardrobe. I paused before opening my underwear drawer. Instead, I opened the drawer beside it and smiled at the small collection of lacy intimates I gathered._ That's three pairs and counting, _I thought smugly.

_No, not counting, _came a snide voice from nowhere. It was in my head. I hadn't heard that voice for a long time. It was the voice that came to me in moments of self-doubt, such as the day in the bathroom before Potter ripped my veins open. _Enjoy it while it lasts, _the voice sneered_. _The thought instantly sobered me, and I closed the drawer and continued to dress for the day.

_Fuck sake._

* * *

It was a little before three in the afternoon, and I was at my desk trying to work while Theo performed his usual routine of occupying the armchair in my office, scrolling on his phone. He was humming along absently to the tunes I had playing. Earlier in the day, I'd gotten a text from Granger:

_Meeting with Kingsley at 2 pm. Talk to you afterwards? Xx_

My heart had sunk to the floor when I read it. There was no doubt what the meeting would be about if Shacklebolt hadn't discussed the new taskforce with her before now.

_This was fucked. Get the girl, lose her once. Get her back, decide whether or not to lose her again._

Theo cackled aloud at something on his phone, which drew me back to attention. Theo seemed chipper but distracted, and I realised that I hadn't considered his position in our current situation. Shacklebolt had wanted both of us on the team again, and no doubt he would be bringing Potter, the People's Hero, onboard as well.

"Granger was meeting with Shacklebolt this afternoon," I informed him.

"_I'm only human, after all. Don't put your blame on me," _Theo warbled along with the song, still looking intently at his phone.

"Have you and Potter talked about what you're going to do?"

"_'Geese goose', _that's funny," he said blithely. Theo's attention was fixed too firmly on his phone for him not to be ignoring me. I tried a different tact.

"You knew that Pansy has been shagging Ron Weasley, didn't you?"

Theo waved a hand dismissively. "She wouldn't do anything of the sort, and certainly not without telling me." He finally looked up from his phone, his mouth dropping open in response to my knowing smirk. "No," he replied disbelievingly. "_Weasley? _But he's – no. Not the ginger prat. Pansy wouldn't disgrace us like that. I'm appalled, I tell you, _appalled._"

"You've been shagging Potter for the better part of a year," I pointed out as Granger stepped through the Floo, looking stunning as ever in a fitted ivory coloured dress and burgundy suede heels that, frankly, would look good tucked behind my ears.

"Entirely beside the point." Theo looked scandalised. "How could she not tell me?"

"How could who not tell you what?" Granger asked him, accepting my kiss with a smile.

"Wait, does Granger know about this?" Theo asked. "Because I'd imagine she'd be a complete _basket case _over this, _and rightly so!" _

Theo began texting furiously, unaware of the twin looks of confusion that Granger and I regarded him with. "He knows I'm standing right in front of him, doesn't he?" she asked in a stage-whisper.

"Theodore has a brazen disregard for reality at times. He probably thinks you're a ghost, so just go with it."

Theo suddenly thrust his phone in our direction. "She said that, yes, she has been sleeping with Weasley. Yes, Granger knows, and no, Malfoy, your tie does not go with that shirt at all." He looked desperately at us. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"Probably because she knew your reaction would be too level-headed and she needed some theatrics," Granger supplied helpfully. Theo narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger at Granger but then paused.

"Hmm," he answered simply. He stood up and exited my office without another word.

"Did you know that some girls stop their boyfriends from seeing their friends?" I asked, shaking my head and sitting down.

"I do know that."

"Can you be one of them?" I pleaded, and she giggled as she crossed the room to help herself to a glass of water. I admired her curves in her dress as she came to sit opposite me and was on the verge of suggesting she sit on something else in my office, namely my dick, but then I recalled that she'd just come from a meeting with Shacklebolt. "How did your meeting go?"

She sighed. "Yeah, that's why I'm here." She looked at me, the light from the afternoon sun highlighting the gold in her eyes. "There's a new project that he wants me to join. He said he spoke to you and Theo about it already."

I nodded solemnly. "With my father's heart attack and then his funeral, I pretty much forgot all about it until this morning."

"That's understandable," Granger empathised. "Kingsley said he hadn't discussed it with me before now because I was busy with Ludo Bagman's trial, and he was still in talks with the Prime Minister. But now that it's been put out there, obviously, there's a lot that we need to discuss."

I rubbed my hand over my mouth. This felt like a cruel episode of _déjà vu,_ and I could feel myself getting agitated. Those first few weeks after Granger and I broke up the first time were fucking torture. Theo, Pansy and Blaise each took turns visiting me in the evenings, finding me in a constant rotation of drinking a bottle to myself, passing out, waking up with a mouth like the bottom of a chicken coop, knocking back a hangover potion, working to exhaustion, rinse and repeat. This pattern continued for two weeks until they all stepped in and demanded that I return to some semblance of normal. Eventually I did, but it wasn't easy. It felt like she'd imprinted on me in some way.

I'd been through some shit in my life but nothing hurt like leaving Granger the first time. Doing it again? The thought was unbearable. One look at Granger's pained expression told me that she didn't like the idea of going through it either.

"I don't want to lose you again, Granger," I stated.

"I don't want to lose you either, Draco," she assured me quickly. "But Kingsley was pretty quick to remind me about the relationship policy."

I let my head fall back, and I released a frustrated growl. "I don't get what the fucking problem is. It's a temporary thing, and I'm not a fucking Ministry employee. This shouldn't apply to us, or Theo and Harry."

"NottPott," she murmured, catching my puzzled look. "That's the nickname Theo told me they've gone with. And by '_they'_, I'm pretty sure he means just him."

"It's not good for your health to speak to Theo too much."

She smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. "I just don't know what to do. I want so much to choose you, Draco, and in every version of this world, I would choose you over and over again. But what if this virus is as bad as they predict it's going to be? What if it kills millions of people, and I stood by and let it happen for the sake of my happiness? How selfish is that?" She sniffed suddenly and used her wand to summon my pocket square. Dabbing lightly at her eyes, she suddenly fixed me with a fierce look. "But why shouldn't I choose my happiness for once? I've helped save the world twice now. I deserve to be happy and in love. I've fucking earned that right."

I hated seeing her cry, and the Ministry's stupid fucking rules were pissing me off with every second that passed.

"But I also know how it feels to want to protect your loved ones, and what it feels like to lose them. How can I still back and do nothing knowing that I could be doing something to prevent somebody else from suffering the way you and I both have?" She was quieter this time and was gazing at her hands as she spoke. This time when she looked at me, her glistening eyes were filled with helplessness and despair. "Could you look at me the same way knowing that I went against everything I stand for, for my selfish reasons?"

I drew in a sharp breath. This was the crux of our issue, and we were both feeling it. We wanted desperately to stay together, but our sense of duty and obligation to do the right thing was calling loudly. Both of us were worried that a decision to stay together would change the other's opinion of us.

But it wasn't just us. Theo had earned the right to be fucking happy for once as well. He'd suffered more than anyone deserved and still managed to have the world's biggest heart. Much as it pained me, Potter made Theo deliriously happy. From what I knew about Potter, he deserved a bit of fucking happiness as well. It couldn't have been easy sharing a soul with Voldemort for all those years; fuck knows it was hard enough sharing a house with him. Theo and Harry as a couple made absolutely zero sense, but I hated to admit it, they seemed pretty perfect for each other. It pissed me off that Theo, my brother and best mate, had finally found peace and contentment, and it could get taken away from him as well.

And for what? For some ridiculous policy that was entirely under Shacklebolt's control to change? I got up and began pacing, breathing hard through my nose. Between Granger and I, we were the best students at Hogwarts for our time. We are highly skilled, incredibly intelligent, and we push each other to be the best we can. Surely Shacklebolt was not so short-sighted that he would risk not having us on his team for the sake of sticking to some bullshit rule.

I looked down at Granger. She was staring out the window, her finger worrying the edges of my navy silk handkerchief. The sun was lower in the sky and lit her face with a warm golden glow. It reminded me of the sun on the bed this morning, and how beautiful she'd looked. I remembered how I'd felt just watching her, how calm and content I'd felt. With a kinship that I'd later kick myself for, I realised at that moment what Weasley meant to want to just _be _with her. For all of the things I loved about her, her mind, her heart and her fire, there were moments when just being in her presence made me want to stop time. I'd be damned if I was letting that go for a second time.

I stalked toward my desk and snatched up the telephone receiver angrily, pressing a button and barking for Theo.

"Come with me." With my mouth sent in a determined line, I grabbed Granger's hand and yanked her to her feet and pulled her into my chest. Theo appeared moments later.

"Where are we going?" she asked, clinging to me. I looked meaningfully at Theo, who gave me an understanding nod and walked toward the Floo. I pressed a firm kiss to Granger's lips.

"We're going to see your boss."

* * *

We stepped out at the Ministry, and I wasted no time in dragging Granger towards the elevators. I noted several people observing us with amusement and hushed whispers as Granger walked alongside me, her hand still clasped in mine. Using Granger's special access, our elevator ride was swift, and we entered the corridor that led to Shacklebolt's office.

"Draco, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Granger's hand hadn't left mine, her knuckles white as she gripped my hand.

"I'm choosing us. The rest is up to him."

Katie Bell, Shacklebolt's secretary, was sitting at her desk, and she looked at us with a shocked expression as we approached, waving us through.

Shacklebolt was seated at his desk, and he regarded us with surprise when we entered. His brow furrowed when he noticed our entwined fingers. "Well, Miss Granger, when I asked you this afternoon whether there would be anything preventing you from working with Mr Malfoy -"

"Nothing is preventing Miss Granger from working with me. Except you," I said. I felt Granger stiffen beside me; her face turned to me with her mouth agape. I took a step forward. "You've unknowingly presented Miss Granger and me with an impossible choice. I've been in love with this woman for longer than I care to admit, and I lost her once because of your Ministry's policies."

Shacklebolt looked to Granger, and she gave him a timid nod.

"She walked away from the Project and me last year because she's a good person, and she will live and die by doing the right thing," I continued. "Now, I have significantly less experience with doing the right thing, and since it's a recent development, I'd like very much to continue the trend. Both of us want to be involved with this virus effort."

Shacklebolt leaned back in his chair, expectantly. "Go on."

"But with all due respect, sir, your policies mean dick to me this time." I heard Granger's shocked gasp beside me. Shacklebolt gazed at me impassively. "The purpose of this project is to prevent a virus from killing millions of vulnerable people. You want the best people on the team, and we are your best people. The fact that we're in a relationship shouldn't matter." I levelled a challenging stare at him. "So this is up to you, Kingsley. You can accept the fact that she's my partner and waive the policy, or you can hold us to it and lose two of the best damned from your team. Because I refuse to let this woman out of my sight. Your call."

"Well, that was impressive, Mr Malfoy," replied Shacklebolt after a pause, looking thoroughly unimpressed. By now, Granger had taken a seat opposite Shacklebolt, her hand folded neatly in her lap. "The policy is there for a reason. It's for the safety and protection of our employees, and to mitigate the risk involved with security breaches and leaks should a high-level Ministry official get involved with a low-ranking employee."

_Bit harsh, _I thought to myself. Granger nodded, her shoulders sagging resignedly. "So that's it?" she asked. "I have to choose between Malfoy and this?"

Shacklebolt gave a palms-up gesture with his hands and offered an apologetic shrug. Granger nodded once more. "Then I'm sorry, Kingsley. I choose Malfoy."

"I'm sorry?" he said, shocked.

She drew in a deep breath. "You're asking me to choose between two sides of my heart. I've given everything to help other people. I want to take this one for myself. But I can be with Malfoy and still help the virus. I'll just go around you to do it."

Shacklebolt was silent for a moment before he leaned forward, reaching for Granger's hand. "Is this what you want, Hermione?" he asked kindly. Almost like a father to a daughter. She nodded again, and he leaned back once more in his seat. His face split into a wide grin, and he stood up.

"The one thing I have always admired about you, Hermione, is your strength and your determination. But going around me to get what you want? Dare I say that a certain amount of Slytherin has rubbed off on you." He walked around the desk and pulled Granger to her feet. "You've earned the right to call your own shots, and I'd be a fool to not allow you both on the team over something like this."

Granger smiled and leaned forward to kiss Shacklebolt on the cheek, and I heard her whisper _thank you. _Shacklebolt patted her hands affectionately. "Now I expect you both to act professionally, and in confidence at all times." We must've looked like a pair of excited teenagers the way we nodded in agreement, and Shacklebolt took a seat behind his desk once more. "Now, is there anyone else going to come bursting through my door with a Shakespearean declaration of love, or can I go home?"

Granger laughed and came to stand beside me, slipping her arm around my waist. "Did I see Theo Nott heading toward Harry's office on our way in here?"

"Yeah, that was him," I answered, smiling at her knowingly. Shacklebolt looked between us for a moment before tipping his head back.

"Oh, the shaft thing," he muttered, realisation dawning.

I guided Granger out of Shacklebolt's office, and we walked down the corridor hand in hand, passing Theo and Harry on the way.

We arrived back in Granger's living room, amidst a familiar scent of roses. There was a surrealness about being here after our conversation with Shacklebolt. This was the scene of our breakup, and I had really thought I was going to lose her again today. It occurred to me at that moment that there was absolutely nothing getting in our way now. No Ministry policy, no disapproval from my father, no deranged overlord is trying to kill her.

Granger knew me at my worst and had not only forgiven me but had given me the most precious gift of all – her heart. We had an ugly start, but everything had happened to bring us together like this.

Granger walked in from the direction of the kitchen and handed me a glass of champagne.

"What are we toasting?" I asked.

"I don't know. But this just feels like a huge moment for us that is worth celebrating."

"Well spotted."

"Well, by all means, if you think you can do better."

I looked at her, and I knew in a heartbeat what I wanted to say, but it was too soon. "We didn't have the best st -"

"Whatever you're about to say, just know that the _Titanic _theme song is playing in my head."

I glared at her fruitlessly, as her eyes were closed as she swayed gently in time with some imaginary song in her head. "Have you no tact? I'm trying to give you a nice moment, and you're cocking it."

She giggled, "Sorry, I'm done. Go ahead."

"You are a monumental pain in the arse, but I will love you forever."

She grinned. "That was actually kind of perfect. You're a loathsome cockroach, but I'll love you forever."

* * *

_**A/N: This is the final (official) chapter for Clash! When I first started writing this fanfic, I really didn't know if I would actually publish it - I have read some amazing fanfics and I thought there was no way I could match up. But I'm really glad I did because it's been fun, and I loved reading all of your reviews and kind PMs. **__**I'll be back with an epilogue in the next week or so just to wrap this up properly. **_

_**T**__**hank you so much for sticking with me through this, I really hope you've enjoyed it. I have a couple of ideas for some new fics but it will be a while before I can get started on those because of my job/uni schedule. **_

_**Stay safe and well, much love! XxX**_


	31. Chapter 31: Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

_About one year later:_

"Now, are you absolutely sure about this?" Theo clutched Pansy's hands. "If you're not, just say the word, and we'll blow this taco stand."

"Theo, darling. I can assure you with all certainty that by the end of the night, something will be getting blown, but it won't be a taco stand. It'll be my husband," came her reply. Theo's eyes glinted, but they were mercifully saved from a predictably and equally uncouth response when the harmonious sound of the string quartet filled the air. Nervously, Pansy straightened the skirt of her stunning mermaid-cut gown with a tattoo-effect lace back and exhaled a deep breath.

Pansy looked at the three men standing before her and felt a sudden surge of affection for them. The four of them had been inseparable practically since birth and had lived through unspeakable horrors together. And on this day, her wedding day, she could think of no one better to stand beside her than those three, even with Theo's false reluctance to let her marry the '_tall drink of carrot juice'_.

With a nod from Pansy, Blaise turned and walked purposefully down the black-carpeted aisle. Draco was second, and he winked at Pansy before sauntering casually down the aisle a few feet behind Blaise.

"Are you sure you don't want anyone to give you away? You know I loathe the idea of giving you away to that half-sucked Cheeto of a human, but as your man of honour, I feel I should at least offer -" Theo asked quietly, still gripping her hand.

Like most young girls from pureblood families, Pansy had often thought about her wedding day. For so long, she had been told she would be Lady Pansy Malfoy that it never occurred to her to consider anyone but Draco standing and waiting for her at the altar. Never in a million years, had Pansy ever thought that she would be here. Yes, Draco would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle, but she would not wake up tomorrow as Draco's wife. Her parents were quietly disapproving of the marriage, and so, while they were present at the wedding, Pansy was determined that she would walk down the aisle alone.

Pansy shook her head. "You and I both know that you simply couldn't do without me. Having you give me away to anyone is just not an option." Her voice was barely a whisper at the end, and her chin trembled slightly. Determined not to be overwhelmed by insolent tears, Pansy cleared her throat and reset her features, as though fitting a mask back in place. "Go, Theodore."

"You look beautiful, my wretched queen." Theo touched her cheek and headed toward the altar.

Soon the congregation arose from their seats, awaiting her arrival. At the end of the aisle, under an arbour of white roses and peonies, was Ron Weasley. The man who had seen past her granite exterior to the woman beneath. It started as a drunken fumble after running into each other on a night out. It gradually became regular sex (Ron's prowess at cunnilingus had been passable at best but he made up for it in enthusiasm and besides, Pansy Parkinson was no quitter). Still, she found herself craving his company more and more after every time she made him leave. Pansy had been all at once resentful and intrigued by how much she began to want him around. He knew she was guarded and he loved her anyway. God only knows she tried not to love him back, and she put up a hell of a fight. But then she realised that she'd run out of reasons to object, and she let herself fall in love.

She didn't blame her parents for not understanding. After all, their marriage began as an arrangement and hadn't progressed after more than three decades together. They couldn't understand what it meant to marry someone for _love _rather than prestige or strategy. She knew they were there, her mother playing the part of _the_ _mother of the bride _dutifully, but this, the most important walk of her life, Pansy would do on her own. With a determined lift of her chin, she gripped the small bouquet of peonies and took her first step towards the rest of her life.

* * *

Blaise scanned the crowd as Pansy walked down the aisle, his eyes searching for that familiar head of blonde hair. He soon spotted it, and he didn't bother hiding his smug smile.

Luna Lovegood was a puzzle; a dichotomy of eccentricity and fierceness. People who choose only to take others at face value had always been quick to dismiss Luna's dream-like serenity as simple-mindedness and lunacy. What they never saw was a steadfast resilience that was Blaise's oasis in times of his emotional turmoil - his oft-times crippling anxiety a well-kept secret that precious few knew about.

Blaise had grown up with a revolving door of stepfathers and a mother who took for granted that her son would just _know _that she loved him. His mother had completely underestimated the importance of needing security, and it left Blaise with a sense of unrest and disquiet that followed him throughout his teenage years like a shadow. He'd learned to manage his anxiety as he grew into adulthood and the debilitating attacks became less and less. Blaise had curated a persona of outward perfection – his appearance the one thing he could control. His striking good looks and perfect wardrobe were well-documented and were matched only by his stellar reputation in the legal world.

To the outside world, Blaise Zabini was untouchable. Few knew his internal struggle.

The first time Luna had witnessed Blaise's anxiety attacks had occurred a few months into their relationship. As oftentimes with anxiety, it was borne from stress. He'd been handling a lawsuit that required frequent travel between his London and New York offices, and the fatigue was wearing him down. Luna had Floo'd to his home one evening to find him huddled on the floor of his bathroom, shaking and hyperventilating. Consumed by exhaustion, Blaise had succumbed to negative thoughts about his incompetence and all the ways he was failing. His anxiety had gotten the better of him, but without a second thought, Luna had swept in and taken care of him.

For the first time in his life, Blaise had someone to take care of him. All those years, he never knew he needed the security of a love that was just for him and no one else. The thought that his carefully crafted façade was crumbling embarrassed him, but in her typical Luna way, she'd assuaged his fears and reassured him that she didn't love him for his image but his heart.

"You accept me as I am. I accept you as you are," Luna had said, then followed the statement with what would become their catch-phrase, their signature for when the other needed reassurance. "You are my favourite person."

That was the truth. Her father had never quite recovered from the loss of her mother, and Luna had assumed a caretaker role for him from an early age. It wasn't Luna's way to be resentful, and she loved her father, dearly. But she'd never known what it meant to have someone show up for her. She always had to be the strong one. Blaise's anxiety attack had been a bad one, she knew. She'd learned a thing or two from supporting her father through his anxiety. Luna couldn't deny the flicker of doubt she felt when she realised Blaise suffered from the same disorder. But Blaise was different. His anxiety didn't define him, and it didn't rule his life. It didn't stop him from suiting up every day and living out his potential. Some days were easier than others to put one foot in front of the other, but he did it. Luna knew that it would be different with Blaise. She'd be his lover, his friend, his cheerleader, but not his carer. Blaise wanted her nearby because he loved her and enjoyed her presence, not because he couldn't function without her. He didn't dismiss her quirkiness or try to change it. He accepted her fully and was strong for her in ways she never knew she needed.

Years of being isolated from her schoolmates taught Luna to be resilient and independent. She didn't need Blaise to make her happy. She did that all on her own. But she certainly loved to have him around. She loved the bubble they had created for themselves that until a few weeks ago, no one else could share.

As she watched Pansy pass by her, Luna looked up and caught Blaise's eye. Her hand drifted instinctively to her belly, and the pair shared a secret smile. Their bubble was going to get a little bigger. One day soon, they would share the news, but for now, it was just for them.

* * *

The ceremony had been beautiful. Even Ginny had gotten emotional. She had sat between Charlie and Bill, the three surreptitiously nudging each other every time another leg of their bets paid out. Their mother crying before Pansy had even made it to the altar had paid out twenty-five galleons. Ron dropping a 'bloody hell' when trying to fit the ring on Pansy's figure had earned another tidy twenty-five galleons, and Harry had to push his glasses up his nose seven times throughout his best man speech for her to collect another fifty.

Five down. She was only two nudges away from cleaning up.

There was a curiousness to this wedding that Ginny couldn't quite place. Nothing ill-willed, it was just _something._ She'd thought about it a lot since Ron and Pansy surprised them all with the news of their engagement.

The wedding was held at the Burrow. One of the pastures beyond the house had been charmed into a stunning outdoor room. '_Rustic elegance' _had been Pansy's strict design brief for the occasion, which consisted of flowers fucking _everywhere_, wood, burlap and strings of exposed lightbulbs. All in all, it was beautiful.

"Traditionally, I would take this moment to comment on the bridesmaids and how beautiful they all look today. The man of honour is alright. But if I'm honest, the other two are ugly bastards." A peal of laughter from the guests interrupted Ginny's thoughts. Harry pushed his glasses up his nose once again and continued his speech.

_One more, _she silently cheered him. Was he the reason she felt this strangeness? Harry had felt unavoidable to her for so long until he wasn't. Her Quidditch career was derailed by a severe concussion that left her with BPPV, a type of vertigo that rendered her unable to fly a broom. She was devastated, and Harry had been there to help her rebuild a life after playing. She began reporting for _The Daily Prophet _as a Quidditch correspondent but had soon been lured into representing a few Harpies players as their manager. She took to the role like a duck to water, and her portfolio quickly expanded to include several international players. Her agents' career had taken Ginny across the world and away from Harry. It had taken her by surprise at how easy it had been for her to leave him so often.

Ginny needed her freedom. It was what she'd loved most about Quidditch. She'd grown up surrounded by people all her life, but with Quidditch, it was her and her broom. Her career was just hers and hers alone, and she loved the solitude. Ginny felt tethered by her relationship with Harry. But Harry was her first love, and they'd survived a war together. How could she walk away from that?

Something else had changed for them after Harry accompanied Ginny to a Harpies event, and he met Theo Nott. She could see it in his eyes. She hadn't been Harry's for a long time, and now because of an innocuous meeting with a guy he barely knew, Harry was no longer hers either. They tried for a while to make it work, but ultimately, the distance between them – emotional and physical - was too much to overcome, and they had lost their reason to fight for it. Theirs was an amicable break-up, and Ginny felt free once again.

When Ginny looked around at the other wedding guests, she could see Harry looking down the table to Theo, the man he loved more than he'd ever loved Ginny. Ron and Pansy were holding hands beneath the table, although from the dreamy look on Ron's face, it wasn't a stretch to imagine that Pansy was holding something else entirely. On Harry's left sat Hermione, with tears streaming down her face. From further down the table on Theo's right was Draco, who charmed the white handkerchief from his jacket pocket into a crane and blew it over to her. _Corny bastard, _Ginny thought. Blaise wasn't paying attention to anyone but Luna, who was seated one table over, curiously sipping water.

All in all, Ginny could easily imagine that this could have been _her_ life, her wedding day, but it wasn't. What was strange about it was that all she felt was a relief. With a final nudge of his glasses, Harry raised his glass to toast to Ron and Pansy. As she raised her drink, she caught the eye of Oliver Wood, and he fixed her with a look of sheer carnality. Ginny grinned triumphantly. It had been a while since she'd shagged anyone in her childhood bed. Ginny tipped back the rest of her drink, content in the freedom that came with knowing that 100 galleons weren't the only thing she'd score tonight.

* * *

"Aren't you supposed to be sitting with the rest of the bridesmaids during this part?" Harry murmured as Theo slid into the seat that Ron had just vacated. The bride and groom were making their way to the centre of the dancefloor for their first dance.

"Yes, because this wedding is all about observing tradition," Theo replied, his arm coming to rest across the back of Harry's chair. He'd never tell Harry, but his favourite feeling in the world was when Harry placed his hand on Theo's leg, just like he did at that moment.

Theo had always considered the statement "_when you know, you know" _to be a horrible cliché. But when it came to his love for Harry, it was true. Theo's sexual preference was never a thing he consciously thought about. He just assumed he was straight because he typically found girls attractive. He'd grown into his lankiness and had no shortage of female admirers. When Theo met Harry again at the Harpies game, he had shaken Harry's hand and apologised for his part in the war. Their connection had been instantaneous but hadn't been some existential reworking of everything Theo had ever known about his perceptions of love. It had been the opposite. His hand still in Harry's, Theo had looked at him and simply thought, "_oh, there you are."_ It took Harry a while to come around to his feelings, but once he decided to stop fucking around, Theo simply gave up the litany of women he'd amused himself with, and that was that.

Theo studied Harry's side profile for a moment, admiring the slight bump in his nose and his strong jawline, covered in a neat stubble. The light grey of his suit jacket offsetting the green of his eyes. His brow was furrowed as it always when he was concentrating, though what he was so focussed on was unclear. The guests let out a small cheer as Ron spun Pansy and then dipped her dramatically, the bride laughing gleefully. Theo felt a pat on his shoulder as Draco slipped behind him. He took Granger's hand and guided her to the dancefloor, followed by Blaise and Luna. Theo leaned closer to Harry's ear.

"Should we join them?" he asked. Harry laughed and shook his head. "Are you ashamed of me, Potter?"

Instantly, Harry turned and grabbed the sides of Theo's face. He pressed his lips firmly to Theo's and held the kiss for a long time. "Even with your woeful inability to pass a cemetery without a making a "_dead centre of town"_ joke, I will _never_ be ashamed of you, Theo," Harry assured him, kissing him once more for emphasis.

"I am very punny," Theo agreed.

"You are an idiot." Harry turned back to the other dancing couples. Blaise and Luna were occupying a distant corner of the dancefloor, away from everyone else. Draco and Granger were off to one side, her hands gripping the lapels of his light grey suit jacket, frowning at each other as they engaged in an animated conversation.

"Ten galleons says they're arguing," said Harry. Theo snorted disdainfully.

"No dice. Arguing is foreplay to them. I've never known a couple to switch between wanting to strangle one another to rampant declarations of love the way they do." As if to prove Theo's point, Draco had slid his hands down to grip Granger's arse through her dark green satin dress and kissed her deeply. Harry laughed and placed his hand on Theo's leg once more. The song changed once again, this one to a Muggle song that Theo didn't recognise but Harry did.

"I like this song," he murmured, looking sideways at Theo. "Reminds me of us."

Theo listened intently to John Mayer's version of _XO_, with Harry's eyes still trained on the side of his face. Eventually, Harry turned away to look at Ron and Pansy. "Do you think that could be us one day?" Harry asked pensively.

"Married?" Theo replied. Harry answered with a nod. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, I do," Harry responded.

"Then one day, we will."

And that was that.

* * *

_One week after the wedding._

Draco was not listening to Granger, at all. She was singing away to her favourite Stevie Wonder song, oblivious to the fact that his attention was elsewhere.

_You have done what no one thought could be 'cause you've brought some joy inside my tears. _

They'd moved in together two months earlier, and since then something had shifted between them. Draco knew what it was. He just needed to act on it now.

_Before he'd invited Granger to move in with him, he had spoken to his mother. In her typical manner, Narcissa had just smiled knowingly. Sitting him down in her private drawing room adjacent to the bedroom she'd once shared with her late husband, Narcissa spoke earnestly to Draco about how it felt to find The One. _

_"When you find the one, they become such a part of you that you can't imagine yourself without their presence. The one will challenge the truths of the lessons you have learned about your value and will teach you what you want and don't want for yourself. But meeting the one doesn't feel like a frenzy; there is a sense of peace and calmness. It transcends reason and sense, but there's an overwhelming feeling of rightness." _

_Draco had been quiet for a moment. "Is it moving too fast?"_

_Narcissa had raised her brow at him dubiously. "Since when have you cared what anyone else thinks?"_

_She had a point. "Things are perfect with Granger. What if this fucks everything up?"_

_"Language," Narcissa admonished. "Draco, darling, stop. You're overthinking it." She patted his knee and from her pocket, produced a small item that she placed on the coffee table between them. "One day, when you're ready, I want you to come to me again. And this will be here waiting for you when you do."_

Hermione had been cleaning the last of the dinner dishes. All through dinner, Draco had been preoccupied, so she'd opted to wash the dishes the Muggle way to give him some space. From her vantage point in the kitchen, Hermione could see Draco sitting stiffly in the lounge, his hands steepled in front of his mouth. With a sigh, she carefully placed the last plate into the drawer and tossed the tea towel onto the marble countertop. He finally looked up at her when she sat on the edge of the coffee table before him.

"You're distracted," Hermione said simply.

Draco sighed. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she reassured him. "Anything you want to talk about?"

The intensity in his eyes took her breath away, and for a moment, she felt her panicked heart fluttering in her chest.

"You know I love you, don't you?" Draco reached out to grab her hand.

"Yes, of course, I do," she nodded. Hermione's eyes frantically searched his face for a clue into where this conversation was going. He took her other hand in his and squeezed.

The song continued to play softly in the background. _I feel that lasting moments are coming far and few between so I should tell you of the happiness that you bring._

He sighed again. "It's nothing. You can take the first shower; I'm just going to read up on some stuff for work for a bit." He bent down and kissed Hermione, releasing her hands. With a frown creasing her beautiful face, she reached up and stroked Draco's face for a moment before disappearing into their bathroom. Draco listened intently for the sound of the shower before setting to work. First thing was to Floo call his mother.

Ten minutes later, Hermione emerged from the shower, dressed in navy satin shortie pyjamas. With a shocked gasp, she realised that Draco had transformed their living room. Small groups of rose-scented candles lay scattered around the room, among vases of pale pink and white roses. In the centre of the room stood Draco. He held out his hand to her.

With shaking breath, Hermione approached him. "What's going on?" she whispered.

"I have few memories from before Hogwarts, and I wonder if that's because I woke up when I met you. I think the universe sends us people at a certain time in our life because they're meant for us in some way. The impact you have had on every facet of my life has been overwhelming, and it's only when I look back at it now that I can say that your influence has made me the man I am."

Draco didn't take his eyes off hers even as he reached into his pocket for a small black box.

"You asked me once why I always call you Granger, and I never told you the real reason why. I would call you Granger until you became a Malfoy."

Granger's eyes were glistening with unshed tears as he opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring, and she let out a tiny sob as he slid to one knee.

"Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Draco. A million times, yes. I'll marry you."

Theirs wasn't a love story where boy meets girl, and they fall in love. Theirs was a story of bitter hatred that gave way to forgiveness. Their journey to getting to know one another as equals had changed them both unequivocally, and the day Granger stood in her boss's office and told Shacklebolt that she would choose Draco was the day Draco decided that he would marry this woman.

There wasn't a version of her future that Hermione could envision that didn't have Draco in it. He had kept his promise to her that he would challenge her every step of the way, but there hadn't been a day go by that he didn't make sure she knew how much he adored her. And in turn, Draco took on each day with the wind in his back because he had Granger. She was his most formidable competitor and his loudest cheerleader. He was the love of her life.

Draco gently eased his grandmother's emerald cut diamond ring onto Granger's finger, and she dropped to her knees before him and kissed him deeply.

Theirs hadn't been an easy love, but it was the forever kind.


End file.
